


The Abduction of Maximus Piett

by LPK9



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universe, F/M, Jedi Luke Skywalker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-10-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:21:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,614
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25955131
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LPK9/pseuds/LPK9
Summary: Maximus Piett, nephew of Admiral Firmus Piett of the Executor, finds himself abducted and held for ransom.  That would be terrible enough for the hapless Pietts, but then Luke Skywalker and Darth Vader get involved.  AU set about 18 months after Han Solo’s rescue from Jabba. There is no Death Star 2.
Relationships: Leia Organa/Han Solo, Luke Skywalker & Darth Vader, Mara Jade/Luke Skywalker
Comments: 43
Kudos: 142





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello everyone! I am just getting started posting on AO3 but I have been over at fanfiction.net for a few years. If I make mistakes posting, please let me know and thanks for reading!  
> -LPK9

Chapter 1

The Bridge  
The Executor  
In orbit around Axxila

Admiral Firmus Piett stood uneasily at the front viewscreen of the Executor, gazing down at his homeworld of Axxila.

He was nervous because he was in Darth Vader’s spot, so to speak, which was an unsettling position. But Vader was down on Axxila, putting the fear of the Force and the Sith into the planetary governor, so Piett had decided to stand where his superior usually did; not out of any sense of self importance, but because his men seemed to work better when he was on the bridge, but not actively staring at any of them.

All was quiet on the great ship, and Firmus Piett allowed his mind to drift. It had been many years since he had left Axxila. Certainly as a young man, he had never imagined he would reach the height of Admiral in the Imperial Navy. His parents, if they were still alive, would have been proud. 

Not that being Admiral on the Executor was the safest of positions. Darth Vader was always intelligent, usually moody, sometimes homicidal. Piett had broken all kinds of records in surviving as the Executor’s Admiral for more than 2 years now.

He had even survived the Bespin debacle, which still startled him nearly every day. Given how obsessive and downright peculiar Vader was about Skywalker, Piett had 110% expected to be strangled when the Millennium Falcon had disappeared, abruptly and incredibly, into lightspeed.

He shook his head slightly. He still might permanently lose his connection to oxygen if someone didn’t find Skywalker soon. The young man – hardly more than a boy, really – had proven incredibly difficult to track down. The admiral was personally frustrated, and Vader had lashed out more than once in a towering rage after yet another near miss. 

Piett suddenly realized one of his lieutenants was standing to one side, and turned quickly.

“Yes?”

“Admiral, we have a holocall for you from a ... Denorah Piett. According to our records, she is your sister-in-law, sir?”

Piett suppressed a gape of surprise. Why was Denorah contacting him here?

“I’ll take it in my private suite,” he said, then turned to his captain. “You have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir.”

As Piett marched toward his rooms, he mulled over this bewildering happenstance. He was rarely on or near Axxila, but Lord Vader’s visit had been moderately well publicized and Denorah knew he was the Executor’s admiral. But Denorah was a sensible woman, and he thought it completely impossible that she had called merely to chat. 

The most likely possibility was that Maximus was in some kind of trouble. Piett sighed to himself; the boy had done reasonably well after the sudden and tragic death of Piett’s brother Tractus eight years earlier in a speeder crash. But as Piett’s career had taken off, he’d had less and less time to stay in contact with Max; no doubt the youth, only 23 years of age, had done something foolish and Denorah hoped with Piett nearby, he could talk some sense into his nephew.

Well, if he had time, he’d make a holocall to the boy and drum some sense into him. If he had time. His primary responsibility was to the Executor and her crew and her Lord.

He shut the door and marched up to the holoterminal. He quickly put his cap down on the desk, then accepted the call.

“Denorah ...” he began, then stopped in shock.

Denorah was standing in her familiar living area, but the woman herself was a ball of horrified distress. Her eyes were red with weeping, her skin blotchy, her body trembling with terror.

“Denorah, what is wrong?”

“It’s Max, Firmus, Max!” she gasped out, then began sobbing.

Firmus’s throat constricted; for all that he had not been in contact much with his nephew, he loved the boy. Did Denorah mean ... mean ... that Maximus was ...?

She was too broken up to speak, but she obviously managed to push a button because the image suddenly changed.

Piett stiffened in disbelief. It was an image of a room, one with blank walls and no identifying information. Standing against the wall, his hands chained above him, was his nephew Max Piett. The holocam drifted closer, and Piett noted the bruises on the boy’s face, and the swelling of one eye. And both eyes looked strange somehow – the pupils were dilated. Had he been drugged?

Now a masked and cloaked individual stepped forward in front of the holocam.

“We have your son, Maximus Piett,” the voice said with an obvious mechanical distortion. “You have 3 hours to collect 80,000 credits. We will contact you then and give you instructions on the deposit accounts. Once we have been paid, your son will be released. If you fail to provide the ransom, your son will die ... very unpleasantly.”

The holo ended, and the scene shifted back to Denorah, Piett’s widowed sister-in-law.

“I don’t have that much money, Firmus,” she gasped.

He interrupted her, speaking rapidly, “I will deal with the credits, Denorah. When did you receive this transmission? How long ago?”

“2 hours,” she said. “It took me 2 hours to get hold of you.”

He glanced quickly at his chrono. He had a great deal to do in the next hour.

///////////////////--------------------

Piett’s private chambers  
The Executor  
In orbit around Axxila

The call came through 63 minutes later. Piett had arranged to have it transmitted directly into his chambers, so that the kidnappers would deal not with a terrified mother, but Maximus’s capable uncle. He had removed his uniform in exchange for civilian clothes, but he hoped that his calm demeanor would help in the ensuing conversation.

He took a deep breath. He had dealt with a terrifying Sith Lord for literally years at this point. He could handle a group of second rate abductors.

Piett turned on the com and stood a little straighter. Again, a cloaked and masked figure stood in front of the com. To the sentient’s right was Maximus, still chained to a wall.

“I have the money,” the Admiral said coldly, “and am ready to make the necessary trade.”

He was, of course, tracking the signal. They would pay the money, yes, but he would track down these marauders and ensure their arrest and execution.

“Excellent, Admiral Piett,” the Masked One said in his mechanically altered voice,“I am so glad that your sister –in-law was wise enough to contact you directly. That will save us both time.”

Piett paused. This wasn’t what he expected.

“The credits ...” he began.

“Are not what I want,” the abductor interrupted ruthlessly. “I need, instead, something that only you can provide.”

“Which is?” Piett demanded suspiciously.

“You will immediately order the release of Prisoner #453, who is being held in maximum security prison #6 on Axxila. The prisoner in question is scheduled for execution in three days, so you had best move quickly, Admiral Piett.”

In spite of himself, Admiral Piett found himself breathing more rapidly.

“I can’t do that ...” he began.

“You will do it, Admiral.”

The voice, if possible, grew even more menacing and deep.

“Because if you do not, your nephew will die by inches, and we will send you a holo of every single loss of a digit, every single burn from a fire whip, every blaster wound. And just to show you that I am serious ...”

The masked figure turned now, and gestured off holo, “Cut one of his fingers off.”

“No!” Piett called out in horror.

Maximus, in whatever horrible cell he was being held, jerked noticeably even as another dark clad figure stepped forward, a gleaming instrument in hand. Ruthlessly, Max’s left hand was grasped, the sharpened pincers held high for a terrifying moment.

“Uncle Firmus!” Max screamed in terror.

“Max!”

Then, so quickly that Piett’s eye could not follow it, the pincers suddenly jerked out of the hand of the torturer near his nephew and flew to the right.

There were yelps of astonishment, and blaster fire began emanating from the left of the screen, off holocam.

A moment later, there was a strange buzzing sound, even as a series of bolts began crisscrossing the screen. The Masked One who had been threatening Maximus had turned to the right and raised his blaster, but before he could fire, a strange green light flashed in front of the holocam.

The screen went black.

Leaving Admiral Firmus Piett shaking and confused.

///////////////////------------------------- 

Docking Bay #2  
The Executor  
In Orbit around Axxila  
1 hour later

The shuttle ramp lowered and Darth Vader, Dark Lord of the Sith, strode irritably down onto the docking bay floor.

His meeting with the (former) governor of Axxila had stretched far longer than it should have. He should have just strangled the incompetent fool immediately, instead of talking to the moron for hours and then strangling him.

That was three hours of his life he’d never get back.

He was, at least, pleased with the new governor, a former captain in the Imperial Navy who had been sent back to Axxila for medical reasons. He would be a reasonably competent governor, and, more to the point, wasn’t corrupt like the man whose body was currently being incinerated.

At the bottom of the ramp stood his faithful admiral, Piett. Vader permitted himself a slight nod to the man. He was, without a doubt, the most reliable and competent admiral Vader had ever had. This, if nothing else, had stayed his hand more than once during the last three years.

“Admiral,” he said, coming to a halt, “status report.”

“My lord,” Admiral Piett responded, then, most uncharacteristically hesitated.

“Yes, Admiral?”

“I have a personal family situation, my Lord, but it has developed into a wider problem.”

Vader looked at him incredulously. Piett was competent, he reminded himself. He wouldn’t be annoyingly obscure without good reason.

“Explain,” he ordered coldly.

“If I may, my Lord, I would appreciate discussing the issue in a more private venue.”

“Very well, Admiral,” he said rather impatiently. “Lead the way.”

Piett walked very briskly, almost ran indeed, toward a nearby conference room.

Once the door was closed, he turned to face his black cloaked superior, breathing heavily.

“My lord, two hours ago, I received word from my sister-in-law, who lives on Axxila, that my only nephew, Maximus, had been kidnapped and was being held for ransom. She sent me the ransom demand, which was for 80,000 credits.”

“Is your nephew an Imperial officer on this ship?” Vader demanded.

“No, my Lord.”

“Then as regrettable as this incident is, it is hardly my concern.”

“No, my Lord, of course not. I arranged to take the subsequent call myself, and I respectfully request that you watch it.”

Vader sighed and nodded, then turned toward the holo. Really, what did Piett think he was? A bleeding heart willing to waste his time on a nobody nephew …

Then the clear buzz of a lightsaber, and the green flash, and the com went dead …

“Where did this transmission originate from?” Vader snarled.

(It was, at least, a blessing that he knew Piett was intelligent enough to trace a ransom call.)

“It did not originate from Axxila, my Lord,” Piett said in a remarkably steady voice. “Given that the transmission was short, we were only able to pinpoint it as originating from Vandyne, Camden, Edusa, or Tangrene.”

Vader had a sector map up on a screen, and it took him three seconds to make a decision.

“Set course for Vandyne, Admiral.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Vader strode to a nearby viewscreen and stared out at Axxila. He was pleased when the Executor shifted into hyperspace within two minutes of Piett’s orders.

“Admiral Piett,” he said, his back to his faithful officer. “I require a full report on your nephew, Maximus Piett, in three hours.”

“Yes, my lord.”

He heard Piett turn, take a few steps, then stop.

“My lord?”

“Yes?”

“Could it be Skywalker?”

Darth Vader cycled through three respirations before answering.

“It is Skywalker.”


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2   
Unknown Cell  
Unknown Planet

Maximus Piett screamed in spite of himself as a flash of pain burned across his right arm. The air had the peculiar smell of blaster fire, and his ears were filled with the terrifying sounds of blaster fire, mixed in with thumps, yells, screams, and a bizarre and frightening buzzing sound.

As for his eyes – well, he was blind.

He clenched his teeth as tightly as possible, trying not to scream again. Best to attract as little attention as possible.

Within a remarkably short amount of time, the blaster fire stopped, leaving only the buzzing sound.

He heard it coming closer, and his body grew rigid with terror. What new horrors awaited him now?

“Hold still,” a male voice ordered. A moment later, he felt the manacle on his right hand part, allowing his arm to fall. Another moment, and his left arm was released.

“How badly are you hit?” the voice demanded, even as he felt hands grab his injured limb firmly but carefully.

“I ... don’t know ...”

“Ok, come over here,” the Voice ordered, “to the med kit.”

“I can’t see,” Max gasped out.

A pause.

“You’re blind?”

“Yes,” Max whimpered. (Yes, it was a whimper. Days later he would acknowledge that he, a 23 year old male, had whimpered. But it had been a truly horrible couple of days.)

“Like, you’re permanently blind?”

“No! At least I hope not! I ... was at a bar, the Rancor’s Armpit, and I guess someone slipped something in my drink. When I woke up, I was blind. I asked why I couldn’t see and they just kept hitting me until I stopped asking ...”

Another sob. (A part of his brain was vaguely aware he was not handling this whole experience very well, but mostly he was just terrified.)

“Ok,” the Voice sounded relieved. “It’s almost certainly just an optic nerve block. Nasty, effective way to keep a prisoner under control. It will wear off within 24 hours.”

Even as the man spoke, Max felt something wrap around the stinging portion of his bicep.

“It’s just a flesh wound, not serious. I’m giving you a quick antibi shot to prevent infection.”

There was a brief prick, barely noticeable compared to the burning sensation.

“24 hours of blindness!! I don’t know where I am ...” Max took a deep breath, then said suspiciously, “and I don’t know who you are. What do you want from me?”

“I am no one to be trifled with.” the Voice said in a slightly amused tone, “ I’m here to rescue you, and you can call me Lars.”

“Lars.”

“Yes,” Lars replied, “and come on, we need to get out of here.”

“I can’t see!”

“So take my arm and I’ll guide you out of here and into the landing bay. At that point, we’ll need to steal a ship and there might be some fighting. So if I tell you to take cover, just do so.”

“I think there are a bunch of these guys,” Max said nervously.

“Don’t worry,” Lars said confidently, “I’ve got it covered.”

And indeed, his captor/rescuer/whoever he was did seem to have it covered. Max walked cautiously and nervously down unknown corridors and even up a few steps, with Lars softly talking him through every section. Every once in a while, they would halt and Max would feel Lars tense. Usually, a moment later, there was some kind of banging or thumping.

Finally, he heard an echoing sound, which he eventually realized was the sound of voices echoing strangely off walls.

“Here,” Lars murmured softly, “get down behind this bench in this alcove, OK? I’ll go clear out the belligerents and then come back for you.”

Max found himself irrationally clutching the cloth covering his rescuer’s arm, “You promise you’ll come back?”

“Yes, of course,” his savior said soothingly, “I promise.”

Max unwillingly released his hold and sank down to the floor. He forced his body underneath the bench, assuming what was almost a fetal position. Which felt vaguely reassuring.

He closed his useless eyes and focused on listening intently. For a minute, there was only the continued speech in the nearby room, then, abruptly, the strange buzzing sound began again. There were screams, and shouts, then blaster fire, then, after a time which seemed like eternity, silence.

Max hugged his knees tightly, aware of his pounding heart. If Lars had been killed or captured, he knew he would be captured. He devoutly wished he had a blaster. Even blind, he would feel better with some kind of protection, and he’d love to take at least one of these butchers out.

Footsteps approached, then a soft voice called out, “It’s me, Lars.”

Max heaved a sigh of relief, then crawled cautiously and sightlessly out from under the bench.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah,” the voice sounded vaguely surprised, perhaps even insulted, “there weren’t that many of them. The bad news is that none of the ships out there are hyperspace capable. We’ll have to use a planetside ship to get off this base, and then figure out what to do. But we do need to leave now as reinforcements are no doubt on their way.”

Max placed his hand on Lars’s arm again and they walked cautiously forward.

“Can’t you just ... can’t we just go to the nearest Imperial garrison or police enclave?” Max asked. “Or to my home, maybe? I live in the 18th quadrant, Section 3, of Axxila. I don’t know how far away we are from there.”

There was a pause, then a sigh, “A very long way away. We’re not on Axxila.”

Maximus froze, “Where are we, then?”

“Camden.”

////////////////////-----------------------

The Executor  
In hyperspace, on the way to Vandyne

Admiral Piett had provided information about his nephew with his usual remarkable speed and precision. Vader perused it quickly and distractedly. The youth had lived a strangely unimpressive and dull life considering the exceptional abilities of his uncle. There were no obvious signs of Rebel involvement, of course. But if Admiral Firmus Piett had received any hints that his nephew was involved with the Rebellion, he would have interfered. It was likely that the younger Piett had been quietly recruited by the Alliance, captured in some kind of raid gone bad, and Luke had rushed to the rescue.

His thoughts stuttered to a halt.

Luke.

Again, his last view of the boy’s face appeared unwillingly in his mind’s eye. 

Grief, and horror, and determination. And then the leap off the platform on Bespin into the depths, a fall that should have killed his son.

For the 2187th time, Vader reminded himself that Luke had been shocked and bewildered and irrational. Surely the next time they met, the boy would accept the truth, align himself with this father, and they would be a family again. A family which would rule the galaxy together.

The prosthetic hands clenched. Luke was all he had left in the galaxy. If the boy would not turn – well, that was not an option.

////////////////////// 

Camden

Max firmly took a bite of the ration bar in his left hand, then a swig of water from the bottle in his right. The enclosed speeder they were in took a sudden bump and water splashed across his face, even as he yelped involuntarily.

“Sorry,” Lars said at his left.

“I wish I could see,” Max grumbled, “I could anticipate the bumps better.”

“Well, maybe,” his companion said with a hint of amusement in his tone, “or maybe it’s better you can’t see right now. We’re flying pretty low, and if you are prone to nerves while flying, perhaps ignorance is bliss.”

“How low?”

“Low.”

There was another sudden lurch, and Lars muttered softly, “Ok, that bush was a bit taller than I realized ...”

Max gulped, “Yeah, maybe it is better I can’t see. So where are we going?”

“I have a primitive camp in a cave off of one of the rivers nearby. I left it about 3 days ago but it is well concealed, so it should still be safe and unoccupied. We can hide there until your vision returns. We’ll have to dump the speeder.”

“Why would we dump the speeder?”

“I’m listening to com chatter from the Yakoska pirates right now; they have an embedded tracker in this vehicle and I don’t have any simple way to get rid of it. So we’ll stop, get off, and then I’ll remote control it so it flies a little way and then crashes into a canyon wall. That ought to get them off our backs for a bit.”

“Yakoska Pirates?”

“Yeah, the merry band that grabbed you. For at least two years, they’ve been kidnapping people with wealthy relatives and holding them for ransom, then using the credits to fund their slave trading operation. A completely rancid lot. My team has been working on taking them down for the last few months.”

“Your team?”

“I can’t give you any details.”

“Oh, Ok,” Max heaved a deep sigh of relief. Lars must be part of some secret Imperial Dark Ops team.

“Does Yakoska Pirates have some kind of specific meaning?” he asked after a moment.

There was a sudden, horrifying drop and he squealed again.

“Sorry, we just dropped into a canyon. Yeah, Yakoska is a Huttese word, actually. It means ‘big turtle’.”

“Big turtle?”

“I know, stupid name, right? I guess they thought it would sound menacing. They are a competent and mean bunch, but their grasp on Huttese apparently is limited.”

Max frowned sightlessly, “So they aren’t Hutts?”

“No.”

Again, the speeder swerved sharply. Max gasped but didn’t bother squealing. There seemed no point.

“No, mostly humans with a sprinkling of Barabel and Rodians. They are peripherally involved with the Hutts because the Hutts are big players in the Outer Rim slave trade, but the Hutts aren’t in charge.”

Max felt a sudden, dramatic deceleration and his body lurched forward against his harness.

“Ok, out you go. Just climb out to the right and you’ll be on a fairly flat area. I’ll climb after you and then I’ll get the speeder off on its race toward doom.”

Max felt the door to his right open and he clumsily reached for his harness fastenings, only to find them open already. Perhaps the restraints opened automatically?

He clambered out, tripping at the last minute and faceplanting on the rocky ground. Surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much as expected.

Lars’s hand grabbed his left arm and hauled him to his feet. Max listened, and felt, carefully. The air felt humid and warm, with a slight breeze. He could hear the ripple of water, and the cry of birds.

“Stay here for a minute,” Lars ordered, moving away from him, followed by clanking noises.

Max stood very still and waited. He heard the engine shift from low to high power, then heard it rocketing off farther down the river.

“Ok, come into the cave. You’ll have to duck your head. You’re taller than I am.”

Max took a few more steps and then lowered his head as ordered. A moment later, he could feel the change in temperature and a moment later, he winced as something swooped past his head.

“Some kind of little bat,” Lars said authoritatively. “It’s harmless.”

“Great,” he muttered in response. It was just so fun being blind in a weird cave with weird little creatures flying around. “At least they’re blind too.”

“Ok, sit down here.” Lars added, “It’s a common misconception that bats are blind, but actually most of them see better than humans.”

Max lowered himself cautiously to the ground and found himself on a surprisingly comfortable mattress, complete with pillow. With a groan, he leaned back, taking care to protect his injured arm.

“How’s your arm?”

“Not bad as long as I don’t touch it.”

“Don’t touch it.”

“Got it.”

“Do you need some water or food?”

“I’m still thirsty, yeah. Thanks.”

A moment later, a cool bottle, beaded with moisture, was placed into his left hand. With a sigh, he raised himself back into a sitting position and fumbled the bottle open.

“So,” he said after a long swig, “You said these Turtle Pirates ...”

“Yakoska.”

“Right, that they have been kidnapping people for ransom for quite some time. Why hasn’t the Empire tracked them down and stopped them before?”

Lars sighed openly, “They tend to target families with slightly dubious money sources, and thus the Empire usually isn’t informed. They also target Outer Rim families, in general, where the Imperial presence is muted. They don’t usually request a huge amount for the ransom, and 90% of all hostages have been returned in good health. The remaining 10% have had a tragic outcome due to lack of funding or indifference on the part of the families.”

Max sat up in surprise and indignation and lingering horror, “If you hadn’t interfered, I think they were going to cut off one of my fingers!”

“Yes, it was a close thing, truthfully. Your abduction was unusual, though I’m still figuring out the details. I couldn’t hear really well but I gathered they were demanding the release of some prisoner on Axxila? That’s totally not their modus operandi. Plus I presume you are directly related to an Imperial official, and they avoid those kinds of hostages because they want to avoid direct Imperial attention.”

Max narrowed his blind eyes, “You couldn’t hear well? Where were you?”

Lars chuckled softly, “In the ductwork carrying heating and cooling air to the room. I’ve spent way more time in ductwork than any man should, but I’m not very big and I find I can often get around that way. But that building’s heat exchange systems are lousy so I kept hearing thumping and banging which partially drowned out the conversation. But I gathered from what I did hear that your father is some kind of government official on Axxila?”

“Uncle, not father,” Max responded more sharply than he intended. “My father is dead.”

A long pause, followed by, “I’m sorry.”

Max took a deep breath and relaxed, “It’s Ok. It’s just ... well, anyway, it was my uncle and he’s not a government official on Axxila. But he was in orbit around Axxila in the Executor so he was around. Maybe they knew that, or maybe Mom called him and he decided to take over the ransom negotiations.”

Max waited, but the silence stretched for some time.

“Executor?” Lars finally asked, “He works on Executor?”

“He commands the Executor,” Piett responded with some pride, even as he took another sip.

Another pause.

“Your uncle is Darth Vader?”

Max choked in shock and spit out the water, then coughed three or four times before managing to pull air back into his lungs.

“No! What kind of crazy question is that?”

“You said he commands Executor ...”

“Stars and moons, Lars, no! Of course not. Darth Vader doesn’t have family as far as ... Look, Lord Vader commands Death Squadron, and Executor is the flagship, and my uncle is her admiral.”

“Firmus Piett is your uncle,” Lars stated.

“Yeah, you’ve heard of him?”

“Of course I have. He’s something of a legend.”

“Is he? I ... haven’t spent a lot of time with him in years, though he tries to make holocalls when he can. But he is really busy and I guess ... well, we’re not in complete agreement about my career choices so that probably has cut down on the communication.”

“So what’s your name? Are you also a Piett?”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you didn’t know my name. Yes, I’m Maximus Piett.”

“Maximus?”

“Family tradition. My uncle is Firmus, my father was Tractus, and I’m Maximus. It’s kind of a pretentious name, like Father thought I was going to grow up to be something amazing. Obviously that didn’t work out. I prefer to be called Max.”

“By friends, or anyone?”

“You can call me Max or Piett or big turtle or whatever. You saved my life.”

“My pleasure. Listen, I’m sure you’re exhausted by the last couple of days, and we can’t move until you’ve regained your sight. Why don’t you go to sleep?”

Max drank the last sip of water, carefully put the bottle down, and thankfully sank down onto the mattress. Within minutes, he was asleep.

////////////////-----------

The Executor  
In hyperspace  
En route to Vandyne

“We will arrive at Vandyne in 4 minutes, my Lord.”

Darth Vader turned away from the viewscreen in conference room #2. He had left his chambers an hour ago and had been roaming the ship, annoying and distressing his crew members in the process, which was as it should be.

If he was agitated, they should be too.

“Very good, Admiral.”

Piett saluted, his face a mask of stoic calm, then turned to go.

“Admiral.”

“Yes, my Lord?” the man inquired, turning back.

“Your nephew had a stellar academic record until age 15. Then he took his preparatory Academy tests and did poorly, to the point that it seems deliberate. I am surprised you didn’t question that performance.”

Piett’s mask slipped slightly for a moment, before Imperial discipline took hold again.

“Maximus’s father Tractus, my younger brother, was killed in a speeder accident on Corellia 6 weeks before the tests, my Lord. My nephew had a very difficult time with his father’s death, as did my sister-in-law. I assumed the poor performance was due to his emotional struggle with the loss of his father.”

Vader stared at Piett for a long moment.

“I see.”

He experienced a sudden, painful twinge in his heart. If he died suddenly, what would Luke do?

Probably throw a party with his degenerate Rebel friends.

A most discouraging thought.

“Who was responsible for your brother’s death, Admiral?”

Piett looked slightly puzzled, “A spice addict who was fool enough to get behind the controls of a speeder. Tractus was at the wrong place at the wrong time. They were both killed in the accident.”

Vader nodded again, “I see.”

There was no obvious reason that his father’s death would have pushed the younger Piett towards the Rebellion, then.

“I assure you, my Lord, that if I had ... had known Maximus was attracted to the Rebellion, I would have interfered.”

The Dark Lord stared at him, his great helmet tipped slightly to one side, “But you believe now that your nephew is a Rebel?”

Admiral Piett, in spite of his training, couldn’t keep his eyes from bugging out, “He must be, mustn’t he, my Lord? I mean, Skywalker presumably rescued him.”

“We don’t know that, Admiral,” Vader said ruthlessly. “For all we know, Skywalker killed him after the com was destroyed.”

In spite of himself, Admiral Piett flinched. Yes, it would be better for Maximus to be dead than locked in prison as a Rebel, but he was still his nephew, still his blood …

Vader actually felt a strange twinge that was something like compunction, “But probably he did not. Skywalker is a Jedi and prone to ridiculous acts of compassion, plus he struggles with a severe hero complex. Your nephew may well be a Rebel, but possibly merely a hapless bystander.”

Camden  
In the woods outside the cave

“He’s asleep right now.”

“So you’re sure this isn’t some complex trap? I mean, he is Piett’s nephew!”

“No, I am confident he is just a hapless bystander. I mean, not really a bystander but it makes sense. Sounds like somebody connected to the Yakoska Pirates was captured on Axxila and they made the risky decision to grab Maximus Piett to put pressure on the Admiral. And then of course I interfered, because that’s what I do.”

“Yeah, that’s what you do all right,” the woman at the other end drily.

There was a pause, and Luke Skywalker eyed the com equipment nervously, waiting.

“Well, we’re in position,” Leia finally said, the determination in her voice winning through the minor static.

“Can I say again ...?”

“That this scares you? No, you may not. This is a great opportunity and we’re going for it.”

“A lot could go wrong.”

“And a lot could go right. I admit I am really worried about you, but since you insist that there is still good in him ...”

“There is. I felt it.”

A sigh, “Well, I guess we’ll see.”

“I love you,” Luke said. “And please pass my love on to everyone else.”

“I love you too. And I will. Com silence from here on out. If we need to communicate, use the Force.”

Author Note: First, many many thanks for all the encouraging reviews, follows, and favorites. And to my wonderful husband, thank you again for being my beta. The “Yakoska means ‘big turtle’” is a long standing family joke. Mackinac Island is a neat island in Michigan, and Mackinac means “big turtle” in a native American language. Every time we wonder aloud about the meaning of some foreign word, we come up with “big turtle” as the likely definition.:-)


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3   
The Executor  
In orbit around Vandyne

In his own private holochamber, Darth Vader knelt, his great head bowed, before his Master. As usual, the senior Sith came in the form of a gigantic hologram which towered above Vader. 

Vader had long grown weary of the symbolism of a humongous robed figure looming over him, but naturally he didn’t say anything.

“What is thy bidding, my Master,” he intoned with solemnity, carefully concealing his impatience. He had to find Luke, and Luke was not on Vandyne.

“There is a great disturbance in the Force,” Palpatine replied.

Vader sighed softly to himself. This conversation was like déjà vu all over again.

“Yes, my Master.”

“Would you care to explain the disruption?” Palpatine inquired, rather sarcastically.

“Skywalker was sighted in this sector of space, my Master. I am in pursuit of him even now.”

There was a pause now, and Vader felt his Master reach along their bond to search out his true feelings and intentions. He responded by flooding the bond with his impatience and eagerness and rage over the repeated close, but in the end, fruitless attempts to find his son.

He felt Sidious pull back, generating clear pleasure as he did so.

“You have been close before, my servant,” Palpatine commented softly, “but perhaps this time …”

In that moment, both Sith froze in astonishment, as a vision appeared in the mind’s eye of each Dark Lord. 

Luke Skywalker, lying on an inclined bed, his arms and legs chained. And at his side, the looming figure of Darth Vader.

Through a surge of intense longing and hope, Vader heard his Master begin cackling in clear delight.

“It would seem, my friend, that your long search is nearly at an end.”

Now his voice grew lower and more menacing, “As soon as Skywalker is secure, you will contact me. Is that entirely clear?”

Vader nodded obediently, eager to end this conversation and continue the search, “Yes, my Master.”

///////////////----------

Imperial Throne Room  
Imperial Palace  
Imperial City  
Imperial Center

With a slight gesture of his right index finger, Darth Sidious ended the contact with his most powerful servant.

He leaned back and allowed himself to smile. The time was nearly at hand, the capture and seduction of the young Luke Skywalker to the Dark Side of the Force. 

Sidious had, he admitted to himself, waited quite long enough. Vader was growing dangerously unreliable, and it was time to put an end to the man. He would have destroyed the former Anakin Skywalker several years ago if a reasonable alternate apprentice had been found.

For a moment, Palpatine’s thoughts dwelled irritably on the Emperor’s Hand Mara Jade. He had contemplated, briefly, raising her to position of Sith Lady. But he had sent her to Tatooine to kill Skywalker as a test and regrettably, if not surprisingly, she had failed the test and died at Skywalker’s hand. The boy was strong in the Force, and far more interesting a possible apprentice than Jade had been. But Jade had been a curious individual herself, with a fascinating streak of morality mixed in with her slavish devotion to his interests. She would have been easier to mold into the perfect Sith, and Palpatine was man enough to admit that with age, his desire to bring a very spirited Skywalker to heel had dimmed slightly. Nevertheless, the younger Skywalker was clearly meant to replace his father.

A thought occurred to him, and he turned on the com on his throne.

“Yes, Your Highness?” inquired the disembodied voice respectfully.

“Order that bottle of my very best Alderaanian wine be removed from deep storage immediately.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

He sighed with contentment. His ancient taste buds weren’t as sensitive as they used to be, but he still loved his Alderaanian wine. Since even his supply was quite limited, he only drank it for special occasions.

The capture of Luke Skywalker would be a valid reason for celebration.

//////////

The Cave  
Camden

Max woke up to the sound of quiet tapping.

For a long moment, he was completely confused. What time was it? Where was he? Who was he?

Then the events of the last few days rushed back into his mind. His abduction from the Rancor’s Armpit, the beatings, the threats, the near loss of a digit, and then his rescue by the mysterious Lars.

He sat up carefully and opened his eyes, then smiled in relief.

He could see!

Sort of.

“How are your eyes, Max?” Lars asked. He recognized the voice anyway. It wasn’t like he could see the man in detail.

“Better,” Max responded after a long moment. “Everything is out of focus, but at least I can see light and dark and some shapes.”

He heard a slight sound as if something was being put down, and then a dark shape moved closer to him and, based on the sounds, knelt down next to him.

“I’m just going to check pupil reflexes, Ok?” Lars asked.

Max nodded, and a moment later a very bright light shown in his eyes. He winced and closed his eyes instinctively.

“Looking good. Your pupils are reacting well. Your vision will continue to clear,” Lars said in an encouraging tone.

A moment later, firm hands were checking his bandaged right arm.

“And that looks good too. Here, eat and drink something and then we’ll talk strategy.”

Max frowned. His vision was truly terrible, but it seemed like something flew abruptly from the corner of the room toward them.

“Uh ...” he muttered, “it looks like things are flying around again. Is it those bats?”

Food and drink were suddenly thrust in his hands, and Lars laughed softly, “No, I’ll explain about the stuff soaring around later. For now, eat.”

/////////////////////-----------------

The Executor  
In orbit around Vandyne

In his hyperbaric chamber, with his helmet off, Darth Vader, Lord of the Sith, reached out through the Force for his son.

Luke? Where are you?

/////////////////////---------------

The Cave  
Camden 

“My father was a government official on Axxila. He decided he didn’t want a naval career like my uncle because he wanted to be on planet with my mother and me. He had to make periodic trips to other planets to negotiate trade deals, and eight years ago, while he was on Corellia, he was killed in a speeder crash when some idiot high on spice ran into him.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks ... yeah, it was really terrible. My mom was 8 months pregnant with my sister and it had been a difficult pregnancy, and then Dad died. She was a wreck, I was a wreck. I admit that. The plan had always been for me to follow Uncle Firmus into the Imperial Navy, but when I took my naval entrance exams 2 weeks after Raina was born, I did terribly. I knew I would. I mean, I was grieving, Mom was grieving, and I was up most nights helping with the baby.”

“You’re a good brother. Was your sister all right?”

“Oh yeah. She’s 8 now. Cranky sometimes, but healthy and vibrant. I’m glad my mother has her since I live in an apartment near work.”

“Do you have other siblings?”

“No. Raina was a late in life baby for Mom ... and Dad.”

“So I assume your uncle was angry with your performance on the exams?”

Max lifted his head to peer with curiosity at the steadily resolving blur that was Lars. He was a surprisingly sympathetic ear for someone who was a hardened Dark Ops agent.

“No, he wasn’t, thankfully. He commed me right after the results were out and was really supportive. He said to just take some more classes at the local academy and he’d make sure I could retake the exams a year later when our lives had settled.”

“And?”

“And I decided not to retake the exams. I took some classes and realized I love Civil Engineering, plus a naval career would have taken me away from Mom and Raina.”

He sighed, “I’ll never be my dad, but I’m the only male relative Raina has nearby. I didn’t want to go off planet permanently. And Mom really likes to have me around too, I know that. I mean, she encouraged me to do what I wanted to do with my life and didn’t pressure me at all to stay, but I know she wants me on Axxila.”

He paused, remembering whom he was speaking with, “I suppose you think that’s ridiculous, sacrificing a high powered career for family.”

There was a pause, and when Lars spoke, his voice was strangely roughened, “Ridiculous? No. I think it’s wonderful, absolutely wonderful.”

Lars narrowed his eyes, and was surprised when his vision cleared a little more. He caught a glimpse of Lars’s face …

“How old are you, Lars?” he asked suddenly.

“24 standard years.”

“Galaxies! You are just a little bit older than I am! How did you end up in Dark Ops so young?”

There was a pause, and Max remembered, “Oh right, you can’t talk about it.”

“No. But I want to say that I think family is very important and that you made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” Max said gratefully, then added, “Uncle Firmus was not so understanding, which I guess isn’t surprising. He thinks the Navy is the best place for me, and my father had the same plan, so my uncle keeps bringing that up every time we communicate – your father wanted you in the navy! 

“Thankfully, Uncle Firmus is super busy so he isn’t around to harangue me much, but he tried to pressure Mom to pressure me. He’s helping support Mother financially because her family benefit is small, so that makes it a bit awkward.”

“He sounds difficult.”

Max considered this, “Well, I wouldn’t say difficult. I mean, he’s not cruel about it. The hardest part is that I know he thinks that a naval career is what’s best for me. So it isn’t that he’s just being selfish.”

He sighed, “I respect Uncle Firmus, and he thinks he’s looking out for my interests. But I need to live my own life and make my own choices about my career.”

There was an odd sound from Lars, which made Max lift his head.

“Did you say something?”

“No, I’m sorry, it’s just that I can relate.”

Lars’s voice was full of some strong emotion now. Anger? Grief?

“I have an ... well, my father has the same view. He wants me to conform to his plan for my life and I’m vigorously refusing.”

Max was startled, “He doesn’t want you in Dark Ops? That’s incredibly prestigious.”

Silence.

“I’m sorry. You can’t talk about ...”

“My work, no,” Lars said, sounding more calm now. “No, I can’t. Anyway, it’s not important. But I think you’re totally right to pursue what interests you while also keeping your family in mind. Civil Engineering sounds complicated and full of complex math and not my cup of caf, but I’m glad someone wants to do it.”

Piett chuckled now, “It’s not all math. I’m working for a firm on Axxila which is primarily involved in blowing up empty, derelict buildings and building new, stable, top of the line structures. What’s not to like about blowing things up?”

Lars openly gasped, “You know about strategically blowing things up?”

“Yes ...”

“That’s wonderful! I need a demolition expert!”

“You want to blow a building up?” Max asked, nervously, and indeed suspiciously.

“Yeah, the main pirate’s lair …” 

Lars trailed off and then suddenly groaned aloud.

Max rolled off his bed and moved closer to his rescuer. The man was leaning forward now and it looked like he had his hand pressed hard against his face.

“Is something wrong?” Max asked worriedly.

There were a few more groans, and then Lars straightened.

“No, sorry, just had a sudden major headache. It happens sometimes, but I’m better now. So yes, let me fill you in …”

///////////////////--------

The Executor

“Admiral Piett!”

“Yes, my Lord?” Piett responded immediately. His voice, even through the com, sounded more agitated than usual.

“Set course for Camden. Skywalker is there, presumably with your nephew.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Within a minute, the Executor entered hyperspace.

Darth Vader donned his helmet, rose to his feet, and stalked over to a nearby transparisteel window, where he stared intently at the whorls of hyperspace.

He had briefly managed to make contact with Luke’s mind before being thrown out firmly by his son. Luke’s strength had indeed developed substantially since their encounter on Bespin. His son had grown powerful, as the Emperor had foreseen.

In the back of his mind, he felt a niggle of worry. Would Luke, with his mother’s personality and his father’s Force power, truly submit to the combined wills of the Dark Lords of the Sith?

But if Luke did not turn, he would be destroyed.

And that was not an acceptable option.

So Luke would turn.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4   
The Cave  
Camden

Lars was speaking enthusiastically.

“I followed one of the ships of the Yakoska pirates to Camden, but by the time I came out of hyperspace, the ship had disappeared. The forests of this planet have absorbed heavy metals from the soil, so sensor arrays don’t work well. I landed and found this cave and did some scouting. I finally found the place where I found you, but that was just a minor outpost. I’m guessing that they didn’t want to risk the main base by taking you there. But before I rescued you, I managed to download some information from one of the ‘puters and I know where the main base is. It is mostly underground with some rather dilapidated buildings providing covert entrances to the main base. I want to blow the whole thing up.”

Max blinked, and thought.

“You and your team, you mean?” he hazarded.

“Well, if you are the other part of my team, yeah,” his companion said with lurking amusement in his tone.

The young Piett gasped, “You seriously think that the two of us can take down an entire base of pirates? That’s crazy! Don’t you have someone you can call for backup? Or can’t we just contact the Imperial Fleet and bombard the base from orbit?”

“Three problems with that, Max. First, I’ve been tracking these pirates for months and I want to take them down personally. Second, there may well be slaves and/or hostages at the base, and I want a chance to free them. Third, if an Imperial ship comes out of hyperspace, the leaders of the Yakoska pirates would probably scuttle off the base before the bombardment and disappear into the forest again, free to start their nefarious ways up as soon as the Imperial heat diminished. Besides, I have my orders. This is the way it has to happen.”

Max leaned back and groaned aloud, “I'm not military, you know ...”

“I am, and I promise I’ll do my best to look after you. Or you can stay here if you insist, but I’m a bit worried about that too. For one, someone hostile might find you. Two, if no one does find you, well, it’s a primitive place ... it might take some time for you to be found, and the wildlife around here can be large and aggressive. Bigger than bats, anyway. It truly is your decision, I’m just pointing out the challenges of staying here. I don’t think I’ll be able to come back after the mission is completed.”

Max groaned aloud, and contemplated for 12 seconds, “I’m with you. So what’s the plan?”

/////////////-----------  
Outside the cave  
5 hours later

“I really don’t see how this is going to work!” Max hissed to Lars.

It was early evening now and they were standing on the bank less than a meter from the river. It was a pleasant view, with the setting sun glowing purple in the distance, and the evening gwerps croaking enthusiastically. But in the distance, they could hear the approach of some kind of vehicle, presumably hostiles. Lars said that hovercraft had been making repeated sweeps the last hours, likely looking for any trace of them.

“Just relax, Max,” Lars said, his face calm.

At least Max could now see his rescuer’s face. His vision had returned to normal two hours ago, and if he had a headache from carefully perusing the data about the Yakoska Pirate lair, he didn’t grudge it. The base was indeed mostly underground, which made the placement of explosive charges more interesting; if there was anything that Max excelled at and enjoyed, it was elegantly blowing something up.

A hovercraft skimmed around a corner, with ... 1, 2, 3, 4 individuals in it! Max cringed in worry, even as there was a shout from one of the men.

“Hey!”

Max turned to look at Lars, who faced the oncoming craft, his visage completely calm. 

“Lars, there are four of them ...”

“You, what are you doing ...?” one of the men said, then Max could see a slow and unpleasant smile cross his face, even as he and two of the other sentients lifted blasters to point at them. The hovercraft was now only a few meters from the shore.

“If it isn’t our missing hostage,” the third man said with satisfaction. He was a tall human, with a black beard, long rather messy hair and, incredibly enough, an eye patch, “The Boss will be happy ...”

“Perhaps we can talk?” Lars suggested politely.

“But we won’t,” the apparent leader said, firing his blaster. A stun bolt traveled forward and Max flinched in anticipation. 

Lars, moving with blinding speed, grabbed the strange handle which had been hanging at his waist and pushed a button; it lengthened into a green glowing blade, which emanated the peculiar buzzing noise Max had heard during his rescue. As if that wasn’t bizarre enough, the stun bolt hit the blade and bounced off. Lars promptly hurled the weapon (?) at the boat, even as more shots were squeezed off, from those in the hovercraft, these set for kill.

Terrified, Max hit the ground, then groped his arms and legs and abdomen looking for injuries. But no, he was fine.

He staggered to his feet, rather dustily, to find the three hostiles destroyed, two of them in dead heaps in the bottom of the hovercraft, the third floating in the water, a surprised expression on his face.

The last individual was, now that Max had a closer look, a Twi’lek woman, probably of forty standard years. She was thin, her purple lekku drooped, her clothing was ragged, and she looked terrified. Then, even as Max watched, her expression changed to one of awe and relief.

“Skeewoker?” she asked in a hopeful tone

Lars spoke to her in an unfamiliar tongue and she, after a surprised gasp, began responding in the same language.

They went back and forth for a couple of minutes, and then Lars nodded. Max’s eyes bugged open even more as the man then gestured with one hand, and the two dead men – Max noted, with some small, semi-hysterical part of his brain, that both had been bisected in half – in the boat lifted up and hurled themselves into the river!

“Ok, get in!”

“What ... how ...?” Max stuttered.

“I’ll explain in a minute, Max,” Lars said firmly. “Just get in. This woman is a slave, originally from Ryloth. The pirates have been using her to run the craft while they were looking for us. She knows the way back to the base; we just go down the river 20 km, then get off and walk about 2 more km. Piece of crispa bread.”

Max briefly thought about staying behind. Lars was ... Lars was something weird, obviously. What was that ... weapon? Tool? But on the other hand ... he didn’t want to be stuck out here alone until some wild animal found him or he starved to death.

Somewhat reluctantly, he jumped into the hovercraft. “Crispa what?”

“It’s a baked convection,” Lars said absently, which only confused MaX more. 

Lars spoke again to the female Twi’lek, and she, with a shy smile, started up the engine and they began racing down the river in the gathering darkness.

“I’m a Force sensitive!” Lars said abruptly above the sound of the motor.

“A what?”

“A Force sensitive. Some people have access to an energy field called the Force. It’s kind of like, uh, the Boolas of Siskeen. They are an alien species who can feel and manipulate magnetic fields in unusual ways. Some people like me can feel the Force and lift things with it, that kind of stuff. I’ve had some specialized training. Obviously it comes in handy.”

Max blinked at Lars for a long moment, his head whirling. The Force? He’d been to the Axxila Engineering Academy and he’d certainly never heard of an energy field called The Force! What kind of stupid name was that anyway? There were lots of forces – gravitational, magnetic, electrical …

“Just don’t worry about it, Ok?” Lars suggested in a soothing, strangely compelling tone. “I’m going to use my training to take down those pirates, free any slaves and hostages, and then we’ll both be on our way. Does that sound good?”

“Yes, that sounds good,” Max found himself saying. Lars was a good guy. It wasn’t his fault he could manipulate pretend energy fields and make dead bodies throw themselves into rivers, was it?

“So what’s with the weird, uh, green thingy?” he asked after a moment.

Lars tapped the hilt that was now hanging at his waist without any spooky glowing green aura.

“It’s, ah, kind of like a sword, but it uses a laser instead of metal.”

Max lifted his head to stare downstream. It was growing steadily darker, but the relatively large moon of Camden was shining down, making the stream reflect brightly compared to the banks. The Twi’lek could presumably steer the craft safely without trouble.

“So it’s a weapon? Why in all the galaxies would you use that!?”

There was a pause, and then Lars spoke in surprise, “Why not?”

“It just seems so impractical! It’s got, what, like a meter reach? How is that going to protect you against a bunch of blasters? What good is it?”

He turned to see Lars staring at him, though his expression was impossible read in the darkness. He felt a twinge of both compunction and fear. For all he knew, he’d just badly insulted the man who not only had saved his life, but had weird abilities at his fingertips.

“I’m sorry,” he began nervously, “I didn’t mean to, ah ...”

“No, that’s all right,” Lars interrupted, sounding thoughtful, “Uh, it’s hard to explain.”

“Is it, like, a special Dark Ops thing?” Max speculated, “something you get when you’ve proven worthy? I’ve read of stuff like that in one of my history books about ancient Rodian culture.”

Another pause.

“Yes, it is like that in a way, I suppose,” his companion said in a guarded way, then continued more normally. “And it does have some functions that a blaster doesn’t. For example, it cuts down brush really well, which may prove handy during our 2 km. hike. And here’s a funny story – well, kind of funny – a few years back I was on a mission and was attacked, then got caught out in a bad snowstorm. A friend of mine showed up and eviscerated a big lizard-like thing and stuck me in its entrails to keep me warm. He used my, uh, laser to cut open the lizard, which was tough and hairy. A blaster would have been useless in that situation.”

Max shut his mouth now and carefully wiped drool off his chin.

“Entrails?” he asked faintly.

“Yes,” the other responded in an amused tone, “Thankfully I was unconscious from hypothermia so I missed the horrendous smell. My friend still complains about the stink.”

Max gazed in disbelief at the man standing calmly beside him, his face shadowed in the moonlight.

“You’ve lived an interesting life, Lars.”

“Yes, I have.”

/////////////////////////------------------

The Bridge  
The Executor

Darth Vader stood at the bridge of his great ship as the whorls of hyperspace disappeared, to give way to space and Camden.

Like a bolt of lightning, the presence of his son filled his dark and hopeful soul. Luke was indeed still here. 

“Admiral, order ships to deploy and begin scanning for ships departing the system. Also, begin sensor sweeps for any camouflaged bases.”

Luke had quite mastered the enraging habit of disappearing at the last possible moment, but Camden’s gravity well was quite deep, and thus Vader should have time to intercept the boy before he could make a jump to lightspeed. 

Again, he pulled the vision back into his near term memory, of his son safely in custody. Perhaps today would be the day long dreamed of, the day when father and son were reunited forever.

///////////////////---------  
The River  
Camden  
30 minutes later

“So, Lars?” Max asked hesitantly and softly.

“Yes?”

“Uh, your father, what does he do?” 

Lars turned his head toward him and when he spoke his voice was cooler than usual, “Why do you ask?”

Max winced slightly, “Um, I just wondered. It isn’t important. I mean, I wondered if he is, er, involved in Dark Op ... I mean, your group.”

His companion’s face was impossible to read in the darkness, but when he spoke his voice was colder still, “No, he’s not.”

Max decided to shut up. He obviously had pushed an unhealthy emotional button, and it wasn’t remotely any of his business anyway.

To his surprise, Lars spoke again a minute later, and his voice was noticeably calmer, “He works for the Empire, actually.”

“Really? What’s his rank?”

“He’s not an officer. I’m not sure what all his tasks are, but among other things he does quite a bit of administration.”

“Oh.”

His father must be a grunt of some kind, with a tedious, boring, safe position with the Empire. Max contemplated this for 30 seconds, then, perhaps foolishly, spoke up. 

“Do you think maybe he’s jealous? I mean, you’ve been very successful at a young age. Maybe he just wishes his career was as successful ...”

Based on the vague harrumph from his companion, Lars didn’t think so.

“Or maybe,” Max said hopefully, “he’s worried about you! You obviously do risky and dangerous things. He might be afraid you’ll get hurt ...”

Lars surprised him by chuckling aloud.

“Max, you have a good heart. People like you give me hope for the future.”

The younger Piett wrinkled a puzzled brow, “Thanks, I think.” 

The Twi’lek spoke now, and Lars listened, then glanced at Max, “The landing stage is up ahead. This hovercraft was the last search party of the day, so there may not be anyone on shore. If there is, I’ll take care of them.”

“Won’t the men you killed be missed?”

“Nalla says no, she says they don’t keep in regular communication because they don’t want transmissions to be tracked by any other groups on the planet.”

“Ok,” Max said, firmly suppressing the growing unease in his body. He was an engineer, not a saboteur. He would love to strike a blow against the vile rancors who had kidnapped and threatened him and terrified his mother, but he was afraid of messing up.

“You’ll do fine,” Lars said out loud, causing Max to flinch.

The man couldn’t possibly read minds, could he?

No, of course not, that was ridiculous.

There was a sudden bend in the river, and a dimly lit landing platform came in view. Max’s stomach lurched uncomfortably as he spied not one, but two hovercrafts with dim forms just exiting.

The Twi’lek woman muttered worriedly, but continued drawing close to the platform. The dim sentients on the stage looked over at them.

“No luck, Reksha?” one of them called.

Lars, Max, and Nalla remained silent. They drew closer yet to the dim shapes on shore, and Max heard murmuring among the men. Then a bright light abruptly shone on them, causing Max to squint his eyes.

“Reksha?”

Nalla stopped the hovercraft 4 meters from the dock, and Lars took a step forward, “Listen, maybe we can work something ...”

Bolts began flying even before Lars could finish his sentence. Max found himself on the bottom of the hovercraft with the Twi’lek next to him, even as Lars leaped out of the boat.

The young Piett flinched, waiting for the splash, then heard the now familiar buzzing sound. He lifted his head, curiosity winning over caution, and watched with incredulity as Lars, wielding the weird green laser sword, danced in and out of the individuals on shore, slicing them in pieces, blocking blaster bolts, and generally wreaking havoc.

Within a minute, all was silent save the buzzing sound. After a moment, Lars turned his weapon off and turned back to the hovercraft.

“Asharkansi tasko, Nalla,” he said.

The woman nodded and brought the hovercraft to the shore. Dazed and astonished, Max stepped off onto the shore.

“I guess this group believes in shoot first, talk later,” Lars said with a shake of his head.

Max shook his head in awe, “You are incredible! I can’t believe what I just saw! I had no idea that Dark Ops training would let you do that!”

Based on the follow-up murmurings from the Twi’lek woman, she was in agreement though naturally Max couldn’t understand her.

“Yeah, I know,” Lars said in what was clearly a joking tone. “Sometimes I amaze even myself.”

“Really ...” Max began, but was interrupted.

“We don’t have a lot of time to fulfill the mission directives, so let’s get moving. Max, are you ready to blow something up?”

//////////////////------------  
The Executor  
In Orbit around Camden  
90 standard minutes later

Darth Vader made his 89th turn on the bridge in the last hour, feeling the tension that crackled between his men. So far, there had been no information about his son’s possible whereabouts.

“Lord Vader!”

He spun around quickly, “Report!”

“My Lord, our sensors have just observed an explosion in Sector 46, Quadrant 3, on Camden!”

Author Note: To be clear, the Twi’lek lady Nalla does speak Basic, but is pretending not to at Luke’s request. She recognized him but Max of course doesn’t have a clue, and she respects Luke’s desire to keep his identity a secret. They are speaking some interesting mix of Huttese and Twi’lek; I figure Luke might have picked up some of both during his travels. As for Max, what can I say? He doesn’t look at wanted posters, and he has a bad memory for faces.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5   
Yakoska Pirate Base  
Camden  
30 minutes later

There was another earth shattering roar as another explosive went off. Max was rather proud of himself as he didn’t even flinch this time around. Of course, he used explosives in his job, but he was never this close when they detonated.

They were currently huddled behind a surprisingly large rock which was 15 meters from one of the pirate’s lairs exits, itself disguised as a dilapidated outside refresher. But they had the schematics of the base and this was indeed an exit.

Lars lifted a hand to his com and shouted, “What was that? I didn’t copy!”

There was a pause, and then he said, “Keep low and get out of here quickly before anyone can pursue you. We’ve got another band of individuals on their way out. You need to get those people as far away as ...”

He paused, then continued a moment later, “Good, thanks!”

Lars glanced at Max and grinned a little, “The slaves and hostages are making excellent progress getting out of here!”

Max nodded, but couldn’t smile; he was too nervous. A moment later, a small group of sentients came hurrying out, coughing and hacking from the smoke caused by the explosives.

Max watched them with uneasy eyes. On the one hand, he hated these individuals, hated what they did, hated for the harm they had caused. It wasn’t just his own suffering, but the suffering of the hostages and slaves he and Lars had met a mere 50 minutes ago. Nalla had quietly guided the two men to an underground section of the camp where males and females of more than one race were being held in rancid conditions, preparatory either to being released for ransom or sold into slavery. 

Nalla, Lars had explained to him softly, had two children in the camp, a boy and girl in their late teens whom had seen briefly as they fled with their mother. They were due to be sold into slavery at any time, and based on the beauty of the Twi’lek teenage girl, Max could guess her likely fate.

It made him sick. He had been fiercely glad to carry out his plan with Lars, to ‘borrow’ explosives from a small storage facility set apart from the main compound and to place them strategically. The first explosion had gone off 30 minutes ago and had separated the slave camp from the rest of the underground maze of tunnels where the vast majority of the pirates were ensconced.

Once the slave quarters were isolated, Lars had moved in, mowing down the guards and, with Max’s help, releasing the slaves. There were speeder bikes in a nearby concealed hanger and many of the slaves had fled to them and sped off. Others had run into the undergrowth toward the river, where some hovercraft were stored.

After the slaves had been freed, Lars and Max had moved on to other sections of the rabbit warren of passageways. As the explosives had been placed and detonated, the pirates underneath had been forced toward the end of the compound away from the slave quarters. This should give the slaves and hostages more time to get away.

But now, as Max watched the pirates approaching, he felt nausea rising in his belly. He had never seen such violent death before. He was, he supposed, naïve – this was war, and these men were, to use an old fashioned word, evil. But Lars, in spite of his youthful appearance and surprisingly kind eyes, was his own brand of scary. Already, the young man had shown himself able and willing to wipe out so many men – and aliens – with his glowing green blade of death.

Lars suddenly leapt out from behind the rock, his sword lighting up. There were a few blaster shots, which apparently the Dark Ops agent deflected with ease, and then brief silence.

Max, huddled behind the rock, listened in astonishment as his companion called loudly, “This can go one of two ways! You can attack me and die, or you can throw your weapons down and flee into the woods. We’ve got Imperial reinforcements on the way and your only chance to live is to disappear! You have 10 seconds to decide.”

There was a short, tense moment, and then Max heard the sounds of blasters hitting the ground. A moment later, he watched in surprise as the group of men, with at least one Barabel, ran into the nearby woods.

Lars was back at his side a moment later.

“They are just minions,” he said absently, “so I decided to let them go. I need to move ... these last explosions have pushed the main leadership of the Yakoska pirates towards that entrance about 100 meters away. Once at least 10 have emerged, detonate everything else, all right? I don’t want them creeping back in to hide.”

“We don’t really have reinforcements coming, do we?” Max asked, feeling a little foolish. 

“Actually, we do, of a sort,” Lars said. His voice sounded odd, even as his hand lifted up to point at the sky.

“Look up there.”

Max did. Descending toward the two men were at least 15 Imperial shuttles.

“Ok, Max, time to finish this!” Lars said, and pushed off the rock.

///////////////////----------------- 

Darth Vader stood eagerly in the main area of his own shuttle, staring intently at the holoscreen which showed base below him. The rising smoke and periodic explosions were hallmarks of Skywalker madness; furthermore, he sensed the boy’s presence nearby. But until he actually saw him …

“My lord!” Admiral Piett said, gesturing suddenly, “to the west!”

The image shifted and yes, there was a small figure with a green lightsaber flashing and dancing, destroying a host of belligerents who were taking aim at his form.

Vader found himself full of both pride and fear; pride because Luke was a force unleashed, fear that he would be overwhelmed and killed just as his father arrived to take him into custody.

“Containment Plan 4,” he ordered his men. “Remember, your highest priority is that Skywalker be taken alive and unharmed!”

///////////////-----------

Max detonated the last of the explosives even as the first of the Imperial shuttles landed. He heaved a sigh of relief; Lars was obviously very competent, but he felt so much better now that backup had arrived.

The ramps dropped with impressive speed and stormtroopers came pouring out and began circling around Lars and his opponents.

And then, Max froze in disbelief. The troopers – they were targeting Lars! His rescuer blocked a couple of stun shots before diving behind a tree. A moment later, he leaped in the air, landed, rolled, sliced three more of the Yakoska pirates in half, twirled to block another stun shot, then staggered as another stun shot finally hit him.

For a moment, Lars stood still, struggling, then fell. But as he fell, a shot from a pirate hit him in the left arm.

“Lars!” Max murmured in horror, but stayed still. He was semi-hidden behind a tree and given the insanity of what was going on out there, he felt it best to stay low. Were these really Imperials? Or were they more pirates, dressed in stolen armor?

Wild speculation ended as a final shuttle landed near Lars’s now prone body. The ramp lowered and the terrifying and regal figure of Lord Darth Vader marched rapidly down the ramp and toward Lars.

A moment later …

“Uncle Firmus?” Max muttered in bewilderment. Never in a million parsecs would he have guessed his uncle would actually come looking for him. He was a busy man.

Max took a deep breath, gathered his flagging courage, and stepped out into the open.

2.5 seconds later, he heard a harsh, filtered voice.

“Halt!”

///////////////////////---------------------

Darth Vader strode over to the form of his son, who was lying unconscious on the dirt, his left arm seeping blood.

Fury warred with concern, “I gave orders that Skywalker was not to be harmed!”

The officer standing next to his son straightened slightly even as his face tightened, “My apologies, my Lord. The prisoner was hit by a blaster bolt from the antagonists after being struck by a stun blast from one of our troopers.”

A medic, who was kneeling next to Luke, working on his arm, glanced up briefly, “The injury is serious but not life threatening, my Lord.”

“See to it that every necessary treatment is given,” the Sith ordered, then turned in time to see a young man, his Force presence generating wild confusion and dismay, being hauled in binders into the small clearing where Luke Skywalker lay.

“Uncle Firmus!” the youth stammered, his eyes on Vader’s admiral.

Admiral Piett’s face was a mask of indifference, but underneath the Dark Lord could sense the man’s terror and, yes, bewilderment. Unusual for his surprisingly unflappable officer, but this was an unusual day.

Maximus Piett now looked at Vader, his eyes wide with disbelief and concern, before he looked down at Luke.

“Is Lars all right?”

“Lars? His name is Commander Luke Skywalker of the Rebel Alliance,” one of Vader’s captains snarled impatiently. “He’s the most wanted man in the galaxy.”

Maximus Piett looked, if possible, even more pale. For a long moment he swayed slightly, and then he muttered, almost too quietly to hear, “Luke Who?”

/////////////////------------------  
Imperial Throne Room  
Imperial Palace  
Imperial City  
Imperial Center

Emperor Sheev Palpatine read the brief communication and smiled with wicked glee. It was a simple account, but a most welcome one.

“Skywalker is in custody. Injuries are not life threatening.”

That was all, but then his agent in Darth Vader’s service knew to keep his reports brief. The dance between the Sith Lords was one of suspicion and hostility, hidden beneath a mask of obsequious honor of the younger towards the elder, and falsely paternal care of the elder towards the younger. 

Ever since Luke Skywalker had risen to galactic prominence, the dance had grown more complex. Certainly, Darth Sidious had numerous spies in Vader’s ship; it was regrettable, if not surprising, that many of those spies found themselves dead at Vader’s hands due to so called incompetence.

Or perhaps genuine incompetence. Darth Vader was not a forgiving man.

At any rate, Skywalker was in custody. It remained to be seen if his servant would obey his direct order and report immediately …

There was melodious chime from the com on his throne, and he flicked it with the Force.

“Yes?”

“Your Highness, we have a priority signal from Lord Vader’s shuttle, requesting an immediate conference with you.”

Palpatine smiled and relaxed infinitesimally.

“Inform Lord Vader that I am currently unavailable and will com him shortly.”

“Yes, your Highness.”

“And send up a goblet of the Alderaanian wine.”

///////////////-------------  
Lord Vader’s shuttle  
En route to the Executor

“You expect us to believe that you were completely unaware that your companion and rescuer was a notorious Rebel? That would argue supreme stupidity, but I doubt that the nephew of Admiral Piett would claim such a thing ...”

Darth Vader strode out of the cockpit and into the main compartment of his shuttle, causing the officer haranguing Maximus Piett to lapse into welcome silence.

The Sith looked first, long and hard, at his son. Luke was lying on a reclined bed, with his arms and legs chained. His left arm had been expertly treated by a medic on the field, and his overall health status was being carefully monitored by a med droid. He was unconscious, first due to the stun blast, now because of the potent anesthetics coursing through his veins. Best to get Luke safely into his secure quarters on board the Executor before he was permitted to wake up.

Satisfied that his boy was secure and in good health, Darth Vader turned his attention to the other three occupants of the room. Maximus Piett, his hands bound, was so pale and terrified that it was a surprise he was still vertical. Admiral Piett, a meter away, wore a look of rigid discipline on his face, but he was obviously upset. The third man was a spy for the Emperor. Vader hadn’t found a viable way to execute the man yet, but he would. In the meantime …

“Your 7th degree of the younger Piett is unnecessary, Agent Prillus,” he rumbled. “I am confident that Maximus Piett did not know Skywalker’s identity.”

There was a brief flash of indignation and rage on Prillus’s face, before the man bowed slightly, “As you wish.”

“Piett’s manacles are not necessary,” Vader continued. “Remove them.”

As the agent reluctantly obeyed, the Dark Lord turned to the young man who had accompanied his son the last two days.

“Young Piett, you called him Lars. What else did he tell you about himself?”

Max licked his lips and took a deep breath, centering himself.

“I don’t know if anything he told me was true, my Lord.”

“Let me be the judge of that.”

“Uh. He told me his name was Lars, yes. He said he was on a mission to take down the group that abducted me. He called them the Yakoska Pirates.”

“Yokaska?” the agent inquired in a slightly sarcastic tone. “I have never heard of them.”

“It means ‘Big Turtle’ in Huttese,” the Dark Lord rumbled. “A foolish name, but I am peripherally aware of this band. They have been involved in abductions and slave trading in the Outer Rim for some time.”

“That’s what, um, Lars said,” Max said eagerly, “and he wanted to destroy their base. And I helped him.”

He waited with bated breath to be told that he had just blown up an Imperial complex of some kind, but Vader merely considered for a long moment, then nodded.

“Did he com anyone while you were with him?”

Max thought long and hard and shook his head, “No, my Lord. I was asleep for a while in a cave after he, er, rescued me. He could have contacted someone then. But while I was awake, he only spoke to me and Nalla, aside from the pirates, I mean.”

“Nalla?”

“Yes, my Lord. He commandeered a hovercraft from the pirates, and the only survivor was a Twi’lek woman who called herself Nalla. She and Lars spoke in a language I don’t know, but he said she was a slave herself.”

“Did you get the impression that already they knew one another?” Agent Prillus demanded.

Max shot him an uneasy look. He could sense the hostility roiling towards him from the agent, then forced himself to relax his body. Oddly enough, Darth Vader seemed gently disposed towards him, and he, and his uncle, were the ones that mattered. Right?

“No ...” Max trailed away as a vagrant memory popped up, “She did recognize him! She called him Skeewoker, but she certainly seemed surprised.”

“She might still be part of the plot,” Prillus said importantly. “I’ve given orders to have the slaves and hostages retaken.”

“Belay that order,” Vader said, the rising fury in his voice obvious to all the conscious individuals in the chamber. “The fate of the slaves is of no concern of mine. And Agent Prillus, I suggest you limit further orders if you wish to retain your current position.”

Again, the brief look of anger, replaced by outward obedience, “As you wish, my Lord.”

“Is there anything additional that he told you that was of interest?” Admiral Piett interposed.

Max considered. Lars had said many interesting things, but how much was truth and how much was fabrication?

“He said he was able to manipulate some esoteric energy field called the Force. I thought he was a Dark Ops agent because he could do incredible things. He said ...” 

Here Max hesitated, then decided to plunge on ahead, “He spoke of his father, whom he said he didn’t get along with. He said he was an administrator with the Empire.”

There was a brief moment of silence.

“An administrator?” Vader repeated flatly.

Max nodded, “Among other things. He said he wasn’t sure everything that his father did, but that he did quite a bit of administration. He also said he wasn’t an officer, so I assumed that he was a low level bureaucrat of some kind. But I guess he made all of that up?”

That seemed odd. Lars had seemed so genuine in the conversations about his father.

The admiral spoke now, “Skywalker’s father died more than two decades ago, Maximus. It must have been part of his cover story.”

Max nodded even as there was a series of beeps. Vader turned rapidly and gestured; a moment later, a large holoscreen lit up.

The Dark Lord stepped over just as the screen lit up to reveal the face and form of an old man, an incredibly old man, a wrinkled, ugly man, dressed in a dark cloak.

“What is thy bidding, my master?” Vader asked, bowing his head slightly.

Max’s breath caught in his throat, and he had to work hard not to cough loudly. This ... this was Emperor Palpatine? The sovereign of the whole galaxy? This ugly old man?

“I require a report, Lord Vader,” the Old One said imperiously.

Apparently, it was. Stars and moons, the man was ancient!

“Skywalker has been captured, my Master. He sustained significant, though not life threatening injuries. We will arrive at the Executor within minutes where he will receive more advanced medical treatment.”

“You have done well, Lord Vader. I look forward to meeting the young Skywalker when he has recovered sufficiently.”

“Yes, my Master.”

“Proceed to Imperial Center as quickly as possible.”

Admiral Piett stood awkwardly to one side, well out of visual range of the holotransmitter, and shot periodic warning glances at Max.

Who, without a doubt, knew to keep his mouth shut. Emperor Palpatine himself was personally interested in Luke Skywalker? Stars.

Vader bowed his head to Palpatine, then turned abruptly as the chains holding Skywalker’s legs suddenly rattled loudly.

Max turned and flinched slightly to see Lars (no, Skywalker) not only awake, but with an expression of fury marring his visage, so different from the man’s usual pleasant expression. Max found himself hoping those chains were strong! 

There was a long pause while the Sith and the prisoner gazed at one another, and then the Skywalker spoke.

“You are, without a doubt, the most rotten, controlling, obsessive, lousy father in the galaxy. The entire galaxy.”

Piett jerked in shock and Max yelped softly. 

What?

The Dark Lord stiffened slightly, even as he locked his hands behind him in a parade rest position.

“So, you have accepted the truth.”

The prisoner sat up slightly on his inclined bed, straining against his bonds, his blue eyes blazing.

“The truth? Yes, I have accepted the truth. I have accepted the truth that you lost your mind 24 years ago and somehow haven’t managed to find your way back. Not that you are insane, because if you were you’d have some kind of excuse. But what is this? First, you chase me across the galaxy from one end to another, then you grab my friends and torture them, then you batter me, and then you put this incredible bounty on my head so every third rate bounty hunter is looking for me ...”

The youth’s heartrate monitor was increasing rapidly, and the Dark Lord shot it a glance.

“Do not overexcite yourself, my son. You are injured.”

Max found himself taking deep breaths to avoid hyperventilating. Lars really really really was Darth Vader’s son! 

A quick glance at his uncle showed that the Admiral was equally shocked. Not that he looked particularly amazed as he had learned to control his expression well. But the slight widening of the eyes showed that yes, his uncle was completely stunned by these revelations.

“Injured? Injured?! This ... this is nothing! After Bespin, I had a concussion, and several broken ribs and, oh yes, a missing hand. Which you chopped off. For no apparent reason as far as I could tell ...”

“You would not yield.”

“No, I would not yield,” the youthful face wore a look which was a mixture of disbelief and outrage. “I don’t pretend to be brilliant, but I know what happens to Rebels who are captured and it isn’t pretty. Yielding was not on the agenda since you waited until I was half dead before you told me I am your son!”

“Luke ...”

“You know, I’ve spent the last 18 months studying up on rotten fathers in history. You’re not the very worst, which may or may not please you. I have you at #15 right now, right behind an ancient king named Nivar the Terrible. Who, in a fit of rage, threw his son and heir off the roof of his palace, killing him. Of course, you did throw me through a window but by some miracle I survived ...”

“Son, enough of this,” Vader ordered. “We can continue this conversation when you have recovered more from your wounds.”

“And that’s another thing, why in all the moons of Iago did you send your men in to interfere with my mission? I had the situation with those pirates under control until they started blasting me with stun bolts! I took down Jabba the Hutt, admittedly with some help; I was certainly entirely capable of taking out a lousy band of Yakoska Pirates! But then you and those bonehead troopers came in and stunned me, and I got shot!”

The beeping from Skywalker’s heart monitor continued to rise rapidly, and Vader shot it a look which, Max thought wildly, might have actually been concern.

“Med droid, give him 20 mg of Diucinide,” Vader ordered.

The droid in question moved forward, a needle appearing in one of its appendages.

Skywalker turned his head and a moment later, the droid abruptly hurled against the bulkhead with an electronic squeal.

“No you don’t,” he said, panting softly through bared teeth. “You can strangle me like you strangled my mother ...”

Vader jerked noticeably at this statement.

“Or you can kill me, or you can take off another limb or two. I have 3 remaining after all. But you are not going to knock me out with some stupid med just because you don’t like what I’m saying ...”

//////////////////////----------------  
Imperial Throne Room  
Imperial Palace  
Imperial City  
Imperial Center

Emperor Sheev Palpatine leaned back on his throne, his mouth widening to show his uneven yellow teeth. The stream of invective from Luke Skywalker towards his father was truly a thing of beauty.

This could not, could not, be better. The youth was not a calm, cool, and collected Jedi, but an enraged boy. It would not take long to turn the child and discard the father, who had grown increasingly unreliable of late.

The senior Sith Lord lifted his eyes absently as his cloaked and hooded servant approached, head bowed meekly, carrying a tray with a large glass of wine on it. 

The servant kneeled, the tray proffered in one slender hand. Palpatine gestured slightly and the glass floated into his hand.

He took a sip with relish, then leaned back with his eyes closed, listening with fascination to the continuing conversation between father and son on the shuttle.

“The Emperor will show you the true nature of the Force,” Vader’s bass tones stated solemnly. “He is your master now.”

Palpatine’s smile, if anything, widened more. Indeed, he would corrupt the young one, and destroy the father …

There was a sudden sound of a lightsaber, and before Palpatine could move, could even open his eyes, there was an intense burning in his chest.

Everything went black. 

Permanently.

////////////////--------------  
The Shuttle  
On the way to the Executor

“It is the only way, my son ...”

“I’m afraid you will have to find another way, Father,” Luke Skywalker suddenly said, his face suddenly calm, his eyes on the terminal behind Vader, “because the Emperor is dead.”

Vader spun around, his gaze shifting toward the holoterminal which was still live. Indeed, Palpatine was leaning against his throne now, his eyes closed, a large hole in his chest, with smoke still rising from his black cloak.

And through the many parsecs between the shuttle and Imperial Center, all the occupants of the shuttle could hear a sound, a buzzing sound, it was like the weapon that Skywalker wielded …

“Impossible,” Vader said softly, even as the holo feed abruptly cut out.

“Impossible!” he snarled, turning back to his son.

Incredibly, unbelievably, Skywalker was smiling gently now, “No, not impossible. Because you see, Father, in addition to producing a wayward, rebellious son, you also produced an amazing, beautiful, strong daughter – my twin sister.”

There was a very long pause.

“A daughter,” Vader repeated in a hollow tone.

Skywalker sat up a little more, straining against the bonds around his wrists, “Yes, a sister. I’ve been training her in the ways of the Force for the last 18 months though I say I’m training her when she’s teaching me a great deal as well. She shields like ... like nobody’s business. She is amazing! And she, with my very uneasy support, decided that she’d take on the Emperor in Imperial City while you and the Emperor were distracted by me.”

The young man frowned now, “I do hope she’s Ok. I’ve heard the Royal Guards are a tough lot.”

//////////////////--------------  
Imperial Throne Room  
Imperial City  
Imperial Center  
A few minutes later

“So is it just me, or was their behavior illogical?” Leia Organa asked Ahsoka Tano. The bodies of the red guards lay in sprawled heaps around the Throne Room.

Ahsoka was slapping a bacta patch on a minor wound on Leia’s arm, so it was a few moments before she replied, “Illogical?”

“Yes. Palpatine is dead. What’s the point in taking us on?”

Tano chuckled drily, “Fanatical loyalty, Leia.”

“I suppose.” 

The other living occupant of the Throne Room closed a panel at the side of the Throne, stood up, strode to the rear of the room, and opened a hidden door.

“Are you ready to get out of here?” she asked

“Certainly.”

“Then let’s go,” said Mara Jade.

Author Note: My apologies to the Mara haters out there. She lives! My heartfelt thanks and admiration to my wonderful husband who edits, and thank you for your encouraging reviews. Hope you enjoyed this chapter’s plot twists!


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6   
The Shuttle  
En Route to the Executor

Max sat very still on the cot, his body slightly more calm now that Vader had stalked off into the cockpit with the belligerent Agent Prillus in tow.

But only slightly more calm.

Skywalker had leaned back now with his eyes closed, his face relaxed.

The admiral spoke softly but firmly, “Max, you will never ever tell anyone about what you heard here today.”

The breath caught in his throat and he nodded, “Of course I won’t.”

“Oh, Admiral Piett?”

The admiral jerked his head toward the prisoner, who had turned his head, opened his blue eyes, and was lazily regarding him now.

“I really think you should lay off Max about the engineering thing. There is nothing wrong, and everything right, about civil engineering. Not everyone is cut out for a military job.”

The admiral took a deep breath, “I have no intention of discussing Max’s career choices with you, Skywalker.”

“Really,” the young Jedi persisted, “what is it with parents and miscellaneous relatives obsessing about young people’s job choices? I mean, I can see my father’s point. Rebel scum blowing up Death Star – bad. Max has kept his chin clean and has worked hard. You should wake up every moment and do a little interpretive dance of joy that he has chosen civil engineering when you consider what a disaster I am.”

“You are not a disaster, Luke,” Vader said briskly, striding back into the room, “and neither is your as yet unidentified sister. But as to your comments to the admiral – it is normal for a father, or an uncle, to have strong opinions about their young relatives’ life work.”

“I can see strong opinions, yes, but at some point you need to step back and just realize you aren’t in control. Well, you won’t do that, because you are obsessive and Sithly. But Piett sounds moderately normal.”

The Sith turned his great head toward the Admiral, who straightened with only a slight gulp of fear.

“I trust you will keep today’s conversation quiet, both of you.”

Both men nodded in unison. The admiral’s face was admirably calm, but Max knew that underneath the placid exterior was fear.

He didn’t even want to know what his own expression was. 

“Very well,” Vader said somewhat absently, and turned toward his son, “I have ordered that Imperial City be locked down. We will find your sister.”

“You know, I actually made a quick trip to Imperial Center a couple of years ago, when we blew up Xizor’s palace. Imperial City is huge, with underground level upon underground level. Good luck finding one woman in the teeming maelstrom of humanity and alienity. I know you’ll try, but I’m just going to say you’ll fail. Like I said, she shields.”

“Her name and description, Luke,” Vader said after a moment, “tell me.”

His progeny frowned and his face grew grim with determination, “I am not telling you.”

////////////////-------------------------   
Imperial City  
Imperial Center  
45 minutes later

“Ok, we’re clear,” Mara Jades said, dropping out of the duct work and into the corridor.

Leia jumped down as well and gazed around incredulously before turning to look at Ahsoka.

“Need some help?”

“No,” Tano responded firmly, lighting one of her lightsabers and widening the grate. A moment later, she was on the floor next to the other women.

“I still think this is crazy,” she grumbled.

Jade was wearing a look of wicked glee, “What better place to hide than Vader’s private suite on the top floor of his own palace? It is the last place anyone will look for us.”

“You’re sure there aren’t guards roaming around up here?” Leia demanded.

“The general consensus among random thieves and spies and agents is that trying to get into Vader’s palace is a death sentence. Of course there is crazy security in the lower levels, but I was able to bypass it thanks to Palpatine’s paranoia about what Vader was up to. He ordered the secret passageways be built with the castle itself and entrusted that information to the Hands. We’ll no doubt run into some cleaning droids, but that’s it up here until His Lordship returns.”

“And we’ll be waiting for him,” Leia vowed.

Tano looked gravely at Mara, “Thank you again, Mara, for all your help. I know your time as an Emperor’s Hand was terrible, but ...”

“We could never have killed him without my knowledge of palace security and rituals,” Jade finished with satisfaction, “especially the whole thing about Alderaanian wine. He always drinks it – excuse me, drank it, when celebrating.”

“Vile despot,” Leia muttered softly, then added. “Luke did a great job distracting the Emperor too. I heard him hurling invectives at our beloved father from across the parsecs. Luke has as surprisingly vicious tongue when is appropriately motivated.”

“He’s a man of so many talents,” Mara said sincerely, then blushed as Leia looked at her.

“He is,” she added defensively.

“I’m not arguing that with you,” Leia said in an amused tone.

Both turned suddenly as they sensed a sudden change in Ahsoka’s Force sense – not fear, but incredulity.

The Togruta had walked into a nearby room, and Leia followed her into the room, followed by Mara.

Then both stopped, stunned.

“Ok, that’s just really really weird,” Leia stated.

//////////////////-------------  
The Shuttle  
Sitting in Executor’s Main Bay

“So, Lars?” Max said hesitantly, then added uncomfortably, “Skywalker, I guess?”

The Most Wanted Man in the Universe, the Weird Wielder of the Mysterious Force, Darth Vader’s son, responded, “Either is fine. The aunt and uncle who raised me had the surname Lars, and occasionally I went by that name while still on Tatooine.”

Max frowned slightly in confusion, then decided curiosity killed the shaak. He didn’t really need to know about Skywalker’s past. He glanced around a bit. Vader wasn’t lurking nearby, and neither was his uncle. They had both left the room, presumably to confer about Skywalker’s capture and the Emperor’s death.

“Why did you do it?” he blurted out.

“Rescue you?” Skywalker responded, understanding him with unnerving ease. “Because they were going to cut off your finger. I wasn’t going to let them torture you, of course.”

Max eyed him with bewilderment, “But you knew my near relative was an Imperial of some kind ...”

The youth’s eyes suddenly blazed with an intensity that made Max shrink back in his seat slightly.

“Unlike my father, who captured my best friends and tortured and brutalized them to use as bait to capture me, I refuse to let someone come to harm just because I don’t like his associates or relatives.”

Max clenched his teeth together. There was really nothing to say about that. Yes, presumably Skywalker’s associates were all evil Rebels, but still …

The blue eyes softened slightly and grew distant, even as Skywalker’s face grew sorrowful.

“I know, better than most,” he continued softly, “how terrible it is to love someone and be helpless to save them. I’m glad I was able to spare your uncle that horror, regardless of his political affiliations.”

//////////////////////////////  
Cockpit  
The Shuttle

In spite of himself, Darth Vader’s heart clenched at Luke’s words. He had retreated to the cockpit to confer with his admiral, but also to allow his son to speak with Maximus Piett. It had seemed remarkably odd that Luke had gone to such lengths to rescue and protect the younger Piett but the Force rang with the authenticity of Luke’s words. His son had risked his own life and liberty to rescue the nephew of the Executor’s Admiral out of selfless compassion.

For a brief moment, and most unwillingly, Darth Vader was transported back in time, to those terrible nights when he woke in anguish from dreams of his mother’s suffering, his wife’s death …

“I believe, my lord, that there may be considerable unrest on Imperial Center after the Emperor’s death,” Admiral Piett stated, breaking into his disquieted thoughts.

The Sith collected himself with some difficulty.

“I agree, Admiral. Order the Executor back to Imperial Center immediately. And order four squads of guards here to escort Skywalker to his cell.

///////////////---------  
Vader’s Palace  
Imperial City  
Imperial Center

“Aw, look at this one!” Mara cooed, “He’s so cute!”

Leia walked in a dazed manner over to the holo which was mounted on the wall.

“Where did Vader even get this?” she demanded incredulously.

The holo was of a slight, blond boy, smiling self-consciously, one tooth missing.

“Probably a school holo,” Mara said authoritatively, “Even on the Outer Rim, most six year olds have some kind of schooling, or at least are screened in some manner.”

Leia looked around, shaking her head incredulously, “He really went all out, didn’t he? I count four holos from Luke’s time on Tatooine, ten more from various missions where he was sighted, and, what, four artistic renderings of my beloved brother? One by Kilstin Randolph? Nothing he creates is cheap!” 

“I would guess that Randolph was persuaded to make a special deal with Darth Vader,” Tano commented drily.

“What’s this one?” Mara asked, her eyes on a large holo near the entrance. It showed Luke Skywalker walking down a corridor, dressed in a gray uniform, holding a blaster in one hand.

Leia stepped up next to the red haired woman.

“Bespin, before the confrontation,” she said shortly.

Mara Jade was not prone to random acts of affection, but she placed an arm around Organa, “I’m sorry, Leia.”

Tano stood in the middle of the room and slowly revolved around, “Vader really is totally, over the top, insanely obsessive with your brother, Leia. It’s like a shrine.”

“Shrines are mostly for dead people,” Leia said sharply, “and Luke isn’t dead.”

Tano suppressed her worry, but both women read her with ease.

“He’s not dead,” they said in unison.

“He was hurt, but not seriously,” Leia stated firmly.

“Left elbow, with damage to the anterior ligament,” Mara said authoritatively.

“And his left scapula,” Leia added.

Ahsoka shook her head, “Incredible.”

/////---------------  
Luke’s “cell”  
The Executor  
In hyperspace  
En route to Imperial Center  
12 hours later

Darth Vader opened the door to his son’s quarters and stepped cautiously into the room. He had holocams on throughout the suite and a bevy of guards at the door, but he still braced himself just in case Luke had managed to bypass the cams, rid himself of his shock collar and manacles, and was lying in wait to jump on him.

On an ordinary day, that would seem quite paranoid. But on a day when his previously unknown daughter had succeeded in sneaking into Palpatine’s Throne Room and impaling Sidious with a lightsaber, almost anything seemed possible.

But no, Luke was seated on the floor near the giant transparisteel windows, cross-legged, staring quietly out at hyperspace.

The Dark Lord stepped in and locked the doors, then turned and waited patiently. He had superintended Luke’s medical treatment of his injured arm, then firmly knocked him out with truly copious quantities of drugs, attended several meetings with his command staff, talked at length with Maximus Piett, made numerous plans for his arrival on Imperial Center, and now had some free time to spend with his son.

Of course, Luke might refuse to talk to him. Vader was still reeling slightly from his son’s vitriolic stream of accusations; admittedly, it was partly an act to distract both Sith Lords, but there was enough truth that the Sith’s soul was shaken. 

At least he was only #15 on Luke’s list of Terrible Fathers. He found himself, briefly, wondering about the 14 above him on the list, then decided he’d rather not know.

Luke, who had been ignoring him, now rolled to his feet and turned around.

“Father,” he said in a neutral tone.

Vader gazed at him thoughtfully. His son was apparently recovering from both the sedatives and his injury well, though his left arm was bandaged. His hands were free for the moment, but Vader had ordered magnacuffs placed on both wrists; with the appropriate signal, the cuffs would pull together, restraining his son. And the shock collar would slow him down too.

He hoped.

It had been some time since he’d been intimidated by a Light Side user, but Luke was very, very strong, and he had an unknown twin who shielded well. Not that she could possibly be on board this ship, but once they were on Imperial Center he would have to be very cautious in public places. He needed to know more about his daughter.

“And now, my son, we will discuss the identity and location of your mysterious twin sister,” Vader said firmly.

“No, we will not,” Luke responded just as firmly.

For a long moment, the two men glared at one another. 

Then Vader sighed. Torture was not an option. He felt terrible enough about what he’d done to Luke on Bespin, and the boy wouldn’t reveal anything anyway. 

He hesitated, gathered himself, then launched all his dark power into Luke’s mind, seeking a name, a face …

Luke grunted in surprise, pushed back with the Force, made his mind a durasteel wall.

For one minute, then two, the warriors, father and son, faced one another, both pouring all their strength into their mental battle. 

Then, with a suddenness that startled Vader, Luke’s mind shield slipped. He found himself, to his intense satisfaction, inside the boy’s mind, with an image forming. An image of a tall figure, white, fuzzy, but growing steadily clearer …

Wait.

“What is that?” he demanded in shock, taking an involuntary step back. 

“Wampa,” his son said, with what the Dark Lord suspected was amusement lurking in his eyes. “It attacked me on Hoth. It’s missing an arm because I chopped it off.”

A moment later, another image, even more vivid, appeared in Vader’s mind’s eye, “Dianoga, from the trash compactor in the Death Star. Interesting the wildlife one finds in unusual places.”

A moment later …

“And this one is a Fexian skullborer. Very freaky. Drills into people’s skulls and sucks out their brains.”

And a few seconds later.

“Rancor, complete with slobber. I faced off with it in Jabba’s Palace ...”

Vader threw up his mental shields with an internal growl. This was an interesting way to prevent a mental interrogation – flood the bond with pointless images.

Interesting and irritating and, if he were to be honest, rather intimidating. It had been a long time since someone besides Palpatine had engaged him in a mental battle and fought him to a draw. 

He sighed in resignation, “Would you enjoy a brief tour of the Executor?”

Skywalker looked startled, “Sure?”

“Very well.”

The Dark Lord pressed a button and the magnacuffs activated, securing his son’s wrists together.

“Come.”


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I missed posting this chapter!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I missed posting this chapter!

Chapter 7

_Admiral Piett’s quarters_

_The_ Executor

_In hyperspace_

_4 hours later_

Piett walked into his chambers, shut the door, and then heaved a deep sigh of relief.

“Sir?”

Piett waved an irritable hand at his nephew, who had risen from the couch in the main living area.

“You can call me Uncle Firmus in private, Max, it’s fine.”

“Ok,” Max responded cautiously. 

Piett shook his head. He had spent years learning to manage Vader insanity, and poor Max had not. Plus there were now two ... what, Vaders? Skywalkers? 

“Is everything all right?” his nephew asked, walking over to a drink dispenser. A moment later, Max had a cup of Corellian rum in his hands, which he quickly handed to his uncle.

Piett nodded thanks and poured the rum down his throat without taking a breath.

“Wow,” Max said with wide eyes, “that bad, huh?”

Piett groaned and collapsed on a nearby chair. He’d been on his feet all day, his men were on edge, and he was on the verge of commanding a Star Destroyer during an attempted takeover of Imperial Center. He was exhausted.

Of course, only an idiot would go toe to toe with Vader for control of the Empire, but there were high level idiots everywhere.

“Lord Vader brought Skywalker to the bridge two hours ago,” he commented to Max, kneading his temples with his fingers.

Max looked startled, “Why?”

“I don’t know. I think most of the officers assumed Vader was showing him off. We’ve been hunting for Skywalker for so long that seeing him in the flesh, in chains, made both officers and men happy. But on the other hand, it was more like a guided tour than a parade of a captive. Skywalker certainly had plenty of questions, and Lord Vader answered many of them.”

Max opened his mouth, hesitated, then said, “I assume no one knows that ...”

“No one knows, Max,” Piett responded very firmly. “It is still very much a secret, and you will not speak of it anywhere, not even here.”

“Ok,” Max said meekly.

There was a long silence and then the younger Piett continued hesitantly, “Uncle Firmus, what’s going to happen to me?”

Piett heaved yet another sigh, “I’m not sure, Max. You aren’t suspected of any treachery. But the situation is complex as you spent considerable time with Skywalker and you are one of the few individuals aware of his ... complex history. I know Lord Vader spoke to you at some length ...”

“He did. And Uncle Firmus, he is really really scary.”

“Yes, he is.”

Piett rose to his feet and looked straight into his nephew’s eyes, “I will do everything I can to keep you safe, Maximus, but the situation is obviously unstable.”

Max nodded, looking miserable, “Do Mom and Raina know that I’m ... Ok?”

“Of course!” his uncle said in a surprised tone. “I’ve been giving your mother vague but reassuring updates for some time. And your family will be meeting us at Imperial Center, so you’ll see them soon.”

His nephew looked startled, “What? Why would they be coming to Imperial Center?”

Piett shook his head impatiently, “Max, your abduction was the catalyst of a major move against the Yakoska Pirates. Sentients like that are all too willing to strike out in anger and revenge. Your family, _our_ family, was no longer safe on Axxila.”

Max’s face had whitened slightly at these words, and now he ran a hand through his slightly long hair.

“I really really wish I hadn’t gone to the _Rancor’s Armpit_ that evening,” he muttered aloud.

“I would indeed avoid such establishments in the future,” his uncle said in a slightly amused tone.

_Vader’s Palace_

_Imperial City_

_Imperial Center_

_4 hours later_

Ahsoka stepped into the room that she had mentally named as the “Luke Skywalker Memorial Monument.”

Mara Jade was sitting on a chair in front of one of the holos, staring at it, a com in one ear.

She looked up at Tano and smiled a little, “The princess is still asleep?”

Ahsoka nodded even as she gestured behind her. A chair floated obediently in and placed itself to Mara’s left.

“Yes, and she needs it, so that’s good. Did you get any rest?”

“5+ hours. I was expecting to be sleeping on a hard floor, so Luke’s so called cell, complete with bed and comfortable couches, was a pleasant surprise. Pleasant and weird. Did you see the little model of an X-wing, complete with R2 unit?”

Tano smiled, “Did you see that the refresher not only has a water cycle, but allows an infusion of minerals from the springs of Naboo?”

Mara grinned, even as Tano gestured at the com in her right ear.

“Anything interesting?”

Mara sighed and removed the com, “Yes, and no. I mean, yes, lots of data, but I can take a break from listening to the excited babble. It’s all being recorded anyway. The city is closed off, not surprisingly, which upsets a lot of people. Imperial forces have been ordered to be on the look out for a human female acting suspiciously, early 20’s, who is the likely assassin. Vader has given careful orders that all individuals meeting that incredibly vague criteria must not be harmed.

“Also, it sounds like most of the government officials are terrified that Vader is returning and taking control, but no one is stupid enough to overtly stand in his way. Ysanne Isard is the most manipulative of the lot; she definitely will support Vader openly, but undermine him subtly. She’s very skilled in that area.”

“She framed her own father, didn’t she? And he was executed?” Tano asked.

“Yes; they were involved in a power struggle, one which Palpatine enjoyed watching from the sidelines. He loved pitting his servants against one another, or putting them in impossible situations to watch them flounder and fail.”

There was a frown on Mara’s face and Tano mercifully changed the subject.

“So what’s this?”

Mara looked straight at the holo in front of her, which showed Luke Skywalker standing in a darkened chamber surrounded by a variety of alien beings.

“Jabba’s throne room. There must have been cams running.”

“So I understand you met the twins on Tatooine, but I never heard the details.”

Mara laughed softly, “No, both are merciful enough to not tell the story very often, because it’s embarrassing. But I don’t mind telling you.”

“You don’t have to.”

“No, it’s fine. I know you’ll understand how life is in proximity to Skywalkers. Palpatine sent me to Tatooine, to Jabba’s Palace, to assassinate Skywalker.”

“I wonder why?” Tano mused, “Luke’s very strong ...”

“I don’t know. Fear, perhaps? Or it may have been a test; if Skywalker died at my hands, he wasn’t worth recruiting? Who knows what was going on in that disturbed mind. Anyway, I couldn’t get a good shot in the Palace itself, but got on board Jabba’s Sail Barge which was accompanying Skywalker, Solo, and the Wookiee out to the Sarlacc Pit.”

“The Sarlacc?”

“Yes, a great big monster buried in the sand, with a gigantic mouth, complete with teeth and slimy tentacles, ready to eat people. Jabba liked to throw certain prisoners into it, in this case an irritating Jedi Knight who killed his pet rancor and his friends. The local lore says that a sentient is digested inside it for a thousand years.”

“Ick.”

“Yeah. Skywalker and company were on the skiff, all ready to be thrown in, and I followed R2D2 up to the side of the barge. I figured he had to be part of the plot since Skywalker had given him and the protocol droid to Jabba as a gift. So I was standing there, just waiting for the party to begin, with every intention of interfering and killing Skywalker, and that stupid astromech stunned me!”

“R2?!”

“Yes, he’s just way too feisty and independent for a droid. He obviously decided I was a threat to his master. He knocked me out before the escape even began!”

Ahsoka chuckled even as she shook her head, “He was a character during the Clone Wars, and 20+ years has made him even more eccentric. So then what happened? You obviously didn’t die with the rest of Jabba and company.”

“No, I woke up in the midst of complete chaos. I ran up with blaster in hand to find Skywalker fighting Jabba’s minions on the top deck. I jumped up onto a railing and prepared to shoot Skywalker from behind, and that stupid little droid stunned me again! He had just come up with a whining Threepio in tow, and I was knocked unconscious into the sand. Luke had sensed I was a trained Force sensitive so on their way out, after blowing everything up, he had me retrieved. I woke up on Dagobah, my bond with my Master frozen, and with that pointy eared, green irritation speaking fractured Basic at me.”

Tano gazed at her for a long moment, lips twitching, and then succumbed to a roar of laughter. A moment later, Mara started laughing as well.

“What’s so funny?” Leia asked, wandering in while rubbing sleep from her eyes.

“Mara was telling me about when you met her. Sounds epochal.”

Leia nodded and smiled, her eyes on the red haired girl, “Yes, it was, but I’m sure you agree that it all worked out in the end.”

Jade stopped chuckling and her face grew solemn, “Third best day of my life. Yesterday, when Palpatine was killed, was the second best day.”

“And I know what the best day of your life was,” Leia said with a wink.

///////////////

_Main Living Room_

_Top Floor_

_Darth Vader’s castle_

_24 hours later_

With a soft groan, Darth Vader trudged into his main living room, if it could be so termed. It didn’t have elegant furniture or expensive window coverings or elaborate art, but he spent a reasonable amount of time here. Almost as much as in his hyperbaric chamber.

A large desk, complete with a very large chair, sat in one corner. A tidy dozen battle droids were hanging in alcoves along the walls, waiting for Vader to carve them apart.

Tonight, however, sparring was not part of his schedule. He was _exhausted_. Today’s activities hadn’t been too physically strenuous, actually. As Admiral Piett had so accurately predicted, there was considerable unrest on Imperial Center when he arrived in the _Executor_. But once he had descended and killed and dismembered a few bold souls (Ysanne Isard had been the first to go) and ordered the arrest of a number of other high ranking individuals, the city had subsided into a fragile peace.

All that was to be expected, and he had handled it with ease. The problem was his son. Not that Luke was being openly difficult. He had been a completely obedient and compliant prisoner except that he still completely refused to discuss his mysterious twin sister’s identity. He and Vader had even enjoyed a discussion on X-wing versus TIE Fighter capabilities. But ever since the _Executor_ had emerged from hyperspace, Luke had been broadcasting his emotions across every psychic bandwidth, to the point that Vader’s head was literally throbbing.

The Sith knew, of course, what Luke was doing. He was letting his mysterious sister know that he and Vader were in range, and he was also drowning out Vader’s ability to probe for the girl’s presence. The feelings broadcasting from his son were incredibly powerful: love, worry, fascination (Vader had glimpsed an image in the youth’s mind eye of the bridge of the _Executor_. Who knew what facet of his ship’s mechanics had so inspired his son?), irritation with being confined, longing for dweezel sticks, and a host of other rapidly changing feelings and emotions.

It was _overwhelming_.

The only possible solution was to knock Luke out, but based on the fierce light in Luke’s eyes when Vader had locked him into his luxurious cell a few minutes ago, that would not have been accepted peacefully. And Vader was too weary mentally to seek out his daughter anyway.

Tomorrow was another day. He’d deal with his difficult son, and wayward daughter, tomorrow.

“He generates a truly incredible amount of noise!” he muttered aloud.

“He really does,” a female voice commented from behind him.

Darth Vader spun around, his hand snatching his saber. No one should be in this room!

His concealed mouth dropped open incredulously. Mara Jade, thought to have been killed more than a standard year ago, stood just inside the side door to his main living quarters, a lightsaber hilt in her hand.

“Jade,” he ground out in rising fury, “how did you get in here?”

The girl shrugged insolently, “Hidden passages, of course, built with the palace. You didn’t imagine that our former master actually trusted you, did you?”

He shook his head just slightly, more out of incredulity than disbelief. No, Sidious had not trusted him, he knew that. But … former master? Did that mean Jade had turned on Palpatine?

His eyes scanned Jade’s form and mind, seeking clues. Her mind was a closed bunker, her shields impregnable through the white noise of Luke’s emotional broadcast. Her face and form were much the same as when he had last glimpsed her several years ago, when they had crossed paths in Palpatine’s Throne Room here on Imperial Center. She had aged slightly, of course, but she was very much the beauty she had always been, mid – 20’s, flowing red hair, green eyes …

His thoughts stuttered to a halt.

Mid-20’s.

Luke’s age!

Moons of Iago.

“You … you’re my daughter?” he stuttered through the vocoder.

A look of disbelief, then horror, stormed across her face, “Your daughter! No, of course not!”

He took a deep breath in relief, then another one, then another. Mara Jade would have been the very worst possible …

_“_ Unfortunately, _I_ am your biological daughter,” another voice stated drily. A familiar voice.

He spun around, then froze in distress and incredulity.

No.

Leia Organa of Alderaan stepped into the room through another entrance, her magnificent hair piled high, her eyes flashing with Padme’s fire, a lightsaber hilt in her own hand.

No no no no no.

“No,” Vader said aloud, numbly.

The dark haired woman stepped forward, her expression as cold as Hoth’s ice caves, “I assure you, Darth Vader, I am no more pleased than you are.”

Multiple streams of thoughts ran through his dazed and confused mind. The Death Star. The interrogation droid. The destruction of Alderaan. Tarkin. Bespin. Her love being lowered into the carbon freezing pit …

“Luke, would you _please stop_!” Leia suddenly said aloud and telepathically.

In an instant, the telepathic noise dropped to nothing, and all three Force sensitives heaved a long sigh of relief. For a minute, all was quiet as their respective brains settled down.

“That brother of yours,” Mara said with a sudden smirk.

There was a sudden clanging and all three individuals looked up suddenly to see a cooling grate detach, then fall to the ground. A moment later, Luke Skywalker, free of shock collar and cuffs, dropped gracefully to the ground.

“What about her brother?” Luke inquired mischievously.

Vader was almost done being surprised, and then he was surprised again.

“Tano,” he growled. The Togruta female emerged from the same grating (with slightly more difficulty, as she was larger than Luke) and dropped to the floor. In an instant, both of her lightsabers were in her hands.

Part of Vader’s mind dwelled on the reality that the situation was rapidly getting out of hand. Most of him was merely flummoxed.

“Luke!” Jade said, her face taking on an expression of adoring relief.

“Mara!”

The two strode toward one another and, as Darth Vader watched with (thankfully hidden) widened eyes, embraced and began kissing passionately.

“Lava flows of Mustafar!” Vader muttered aloud.

“If it’s any comfort,” Tano said with a slightly feral grin, “they are married.”

Vader bit his lip so hard it hurt, “No, that is no comfort.”


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 7

Vader’s quarters

Imperial City

Imperial Center

Luke and Jade were still locking lips when Darth Vader lit his lightsaber.

It appeared his end had come. It had been decades since he had trained Tano, but he knew her posture, knew that her body was full of coiled power ready to unleash on her former master.

And Leia Organa, too, had every reason to destroy him, the man who had tortured her mercilessly, who had held her back as the Death Star destroyed her planet ...

Three lightsabers hissed to life in response; Tano’s two, and a blue blade in Organa’s hand.

Luke jerked away from his wife and turned an astonished look at his sister.

“What are you doing?”

Leia lifted her chin towards Vader, “He started it.”

Tano held out one of her sabers towards Vader’s son, “You’d better take this.”

The boy, to his father’s surprise, shook his head, “I don’t want it, Ahsoka. Look, everyone, just ... let’s just think about this, Ok?”

Luke took a step closer to Vader and lifted his gaze to meet the Dark Lord’s eyes. (How did he do that? No one, even Palpatine, had been able to meet his eyes in the mask.)

“What are you doing, Father?”

His heart beat on mechanically, as it had for more than 20 years, but he felt a strange flutter in his chest now. Those blue eyes were so much like his own long ago.

“I have lived a warrior, and I will die a warrior,” he intoned.

Luke actually rolled his eyes, “You really are so dramatic sometimes, you know?”

Ahsoka chimed in now, “You’re going to take on your twin children, your daughter-in-law, and your ex-padawan? I know you are incredibly strong in the Force, but, not to brag, we are too. You don’t have a chance against all of us.”

“Then I will be destroyed,” Vader said firmly. “And if so, my time has come. My children will strike me down and rule the galaxy as brother and sister.”

Luke and Leia exchanged looks of disbelief, and then Ahsoka made a dramatic gagging sound.

“Please, Father ...,” said Luke

“That is not going to happen,” Leia chimed in. “We have no intention of ruling the galaxy. Unlike you, we aren’t psychotic and insane and dictatorial and cruel.”

Luke continued firmly, “Ok, let’s do a thought experiment. Say we do have a fight, right here, right now. Do the four of us survive, do you think?”

“What?” Vader asked in bewilderment.

Incredibly, Luke took another step forward without so much as a glance at the red blade buzzing in his sire’s hand, the blade which had taken his hand.

“You have a great deal of experience, Father. Do you think my twin, my wife, your ex-padawan, and I would all survive an attack on you? Again, just a thought experiment.”

Vader frowned. Considered.

“Based on my admittedly limited knowledge of your abilities, one of you would die, two would be seriously injured, the last would sustain minor injuries and cut me down,” he stated carefully.

Luke took yet another step closer, his gaze steady, “Is that what you want, Father? To kill your former padawan, or one of Padme’s children, or ...”

The Sith flinched openly at the mention of his long dead wife’s name.

“I see you don’t, really, Father,” his son continued softly. “So can’t we work something out? There is no reason for us to fight, and every reason not to fight. I don’t want to kill you, the father I’ve always longed to know. Ahsoka doesn’t. You were once her master, and you saved her life many times. Leia and Mara both have their reasons to want to chop you into pieces but ...” 

“But we won’t, because it would upset Luke,” Leia said seriously.

Vader stared incredulously, then shook his head, “The Sith and Jedi are at war, and always will be.”

“So don’t be a Sith anymore. None of us are traditional Jedi. Can’t we come to some kind of compromise?”

Vader gazed at his son in disbelief, “I have lived with the power, and under the direction, of the Dark Side your entire lives, my children. It is too late for me.”

Mara broke in now, “Too late for what, exactly? Are you a two meter walking disaster of a cyborg? Of course you are. Are you cruel and vicious? Yes, without a doubt. But it is obvious from the Luke Shrine that you care very much about your son. So there is obviously attachment there ...”

He stared at Jade (his daughter-in-law. His daughter-in-law!). He felt odd. It was odd being here with his children and his ex-padawan and his daughter-in-law. It was odd that Palpatine, the man who had sunken his claws into the soul of young Anakin Skywalker more than 30 years ago, was dead.

He focused on the Dark. It responded sluggishly, far more sluggishly, then usual, and was interspersed with a strange constellation of Light ...

“Father,” Luke said again, “another thought experiment now. The Emperor is dead. What do you want?”

“What do I want?” he repeated numbly.

“Yes. Aside from the fact that you have four semi-hostile Force users in your private suite, the galaxy is yours. Ignore us for a moment. What do you want for the rest of your life?”

Vader stared at his son blankly. What did he want? He had longed for this for so many years, hadn’t he? To be free of his master, to create the galaxy in the image of ... of ... of what Padme would have wanted. In the image of what his image of Padme would have wanted ...

She had rejected him in those last moments, rejected his desire to be together, to rule together.

“I wish to rule the galaxy with my children at my side,” he said finally.

Luke nodded gravely, “Ok, Father. You can’t have both. Leia and I will not rule at your side. So what is more important, that you rule the galaxy, or that you have your family at your side?”

Another long pause and Vader sighed loudly enough that the vocoder picked it up.

“I took your hand, my son. I tortured your sister, and your sister’s love and encased him in carbonite. I nearly killed Tano. I propped up the Emperor who enslaved your wife. Without the seduction and power of the Dark Side holding us together, there can be no unity.”

Luke’s mouth gaped open, but it was Leia who spoke, “Seriously? Listen to yourself! You think that hatred and blind ambition will bring us together, and repentance and forgiveness and love will drive us apart? You really make no sense sometimes!”

He turned now to the woman who wore Padme’s beauty. (How had he been so blind?)

“I sent your love to his doom, did I not, Princess Leia? How can there be any kind of reconciliation?”

“We did rescue him, you know,” the woman returned irascibly. “And I had the pleasure of strangling Jabba to death in the process. Look, don’t get me wrong. I do hate your guts. I still wake up at night with nightmares of the horrors you inflicted on me, even as Luke has Bespin nightmares ...”

The Dark Lord took an involuntarily step back.

“But,” she continued firmly, “I am a politician as my mother was before me. I will set aside my own personal feelings for the good of the galaxy. This Empire that you helped build must fall and democracy must rise.”

“Democracy will fail,” Vader said coldly and bitterly. “The Republic ruled for generations and yet slavery flourished in the Outer Rim. The Republic ruled for generations, and the Jedi became the harsh arm of their failed attempts at peace. The Republic ruled for generations, and yet the politicians of the Senate argued for hours and returned to their plush homes while the poor and disenfranchised suffered and died. The Republic ruled for generations, then turned to the clones to save it against the Separatists; clones who were slaves themselves thanks to the chips implanted in their heads.”

Vader stopped now, surprised at the passion which was bleeding through the vocoder. He focused on his daughter (his daughter!) and waited for her arguments to begin.

To his astonishment, she nodded slowly, deliberately turned off her lightsaber, and hung it at her waist.

She looked up again, her head tilted to meet his mask, and her eyes narrowed intently, “Now we’re getting somewhere, Lord Vader. Yes, the Old Republic was corrupt. I would argue that the Empire you helped create was far worse, but the Old Republic grew stagnant, as did the Jedi. Kenobi naturally speaks through his own filter, but even he admits the Order fell partially due to its own blindness and rigidity.”

“Kenobi!” Vader snarled in anger.

Then.

“Kenobi? I was not aware you ever met him, Princess Leia. I understood he lived for 19 years on Tatooine, looking after Luke from afar.”

Organa lifted a cultured eyebrow, “I didn’t know him when he was alive, of course. But he pops in occasionally as a ghost and we interrogate him. He’s rather a coward about it at times; we’ll get to a really juicy part of some story and he’ll mutter that he’s needed elsewhere and vanish.”

Darth Vader stared at her blankly. Given the situation, given that this was Leia Organa of Alderaan, who loathed and despised him, she couldn’t be teasing him.

Could she?

But obviously what she said was ridiculous.

He pulled his gaze from her and let it travel around the room. Tano, Luke, and Jade were all watching him intently. None of them looked startled or amused. It was if what she said made some kind of sense.

“Ghost?” he asked.

“Or specter,” Luke interpolated, “he actually prefers that. But ghost, specter, whatever – he’s a dead blue glowing person who chats with us when he feels like it. And Leia’s right, he can be annoying. But we have learned a lot from him.”

“It is impossible for the dead to return from the nether world of the Force,” Vader stated coldly.

This provoked a near flood of surprise through the Force from his son, with ripples of surprise emanating from the other Force sensitives in the room.

“You don’t know about the whole Force ghost thing?” Luke demanded in bewilderment. “How else do you think we know about Padme, and what happened between you and Mother on Mustafar?”

Vader winced at this. If it was true (could it be true? The Force said it was!) than the children could know far more than he wished ...

“Never mind that for now,” Organa said, mercifully interrupting these horrified thoughts. “I want to talk politics with you. I don’t trust you at all and doubt you have any good in you, but Luke does and thinks you do. Even our mother did, apparently, as she lay on her death bed ...”

Stars and galaxies!

“But if you are at all willing to work with us, perhaps we can come to a compromise of sorts, one which will shift the galaxy towards peace and justice without provoking the bloodbath of a long and ugly war.” 

There was a pause, a very long pause, while Vader thought.

“Very well,” he finally said, “I am willing to at least discuss the possibilities.”

“Good,” Organa responded with a nod of her head.

“But not now.”

“Why not?” Mara asked suspiciously.

“Because I’m tired,” the Dark Lord returned irritably, “and my head is still throbbing from Luke’s telepathic cacophony of sound.”

“I wasn’t that loud,” Luke commented indignantly.

There were amused chuckles from the females in residence, and Mara said, “Darling husband of mine, you were that loud.”

“No, I wasn’t ...”

“There are non sentient mosses hidden in underground passages 100 levels below the surface of Imperial Center who are still quivering from the volume of noise you were generating psychically,” Tano stated firmly.

Leia laughed aloud, her face suddenly alight with the first smile he’d ever seen on her.

And his chest physically hurt at the memories that surged into his mind, of another face, with cascading dark curls and brown eyes, a face which held terror the last time she looked upon him in Mustafar’s fiery glow.

“Ok,” Luke said. “How about a 3 hour break while you all get over your headaches? But Father, no treachery please. I won’t kill you, but if necessary I will fight you and chop off all your cyborg limbs to limit your homicidal urges. I mean, if I can. But Ahsoka’s right. We’re a tough bunch.”

Vader pulled his gaze away from his daughter.

“No treachery, agreed,” he said solemnly, than added in a warning tone, “on either side.”

///////////////////////-------------------------------

Admiral Piett’s quarters

The Executor

In Orbit around Imperial Center

The door slid open and Max dropped his holopad and leaped to his feet.

“Mom! Raina!”

A slight, dark blond, curly headed girl ran through the door and wrapped her arms around Max’s waist.

She gazed up at his face, her brown eyes shining with excitement, “Max! We got to go in a spaceship, did you know that? And on board we got to drink Buzzlesap! Mom let me have one every day at lunch and dinner! And I talked to a droid who had blue plating. He’s a protocol droid named P2NP. He told me about how dinners are prepared on Imperial Center, the fancy ones! I had to leave our protocol droid behind. We got a new one, did you know? She has silver plating. She promised to look after my ferbil and my pet fish. But I was able to bring my rancor plush. I bought you ...”

Max felt a slight headache gather in his right frontal lobe as his sister chattered on and on. He shot a look at his mother Denorah, who smiled and put a gentle arm around Max’s sister.

“Darling, you’ll have time to tell Max more later, but I need to talk to him now. I understand you have a surprise from your brother in the next room. Why don’t you go look at it and then sit and read your holobooks for a few minutes. Your Uncle Firmus says we’ll have dinner in about 20 minutes. Ok?”

“Ok,” Raina said, her eyes alight with excitement. She gave Max a harder squeeze around the middle and ran off toward the bedroom, making happy squeaking noises.

“Wow, Mother, she’s really wound up!” Max said with a sigh of relief.

Denorah Piett didn’t respond with words; she stepped forward and threw her arms around her son, hugging him so tightly that it hurt.

“Oh Max,” she murmured softly.

Max hugged her back, “I’m fine, Mom. Really. I’m totally fine.”

She looked up, tears tracking down her face, then turned to Admiral Piett.

“Firmus, I can’t thank you enough for all you did to rescue Max.”

The Admiral looked uncomfortable but he spoke sincerely, “You know I care deeply about you and your children, Denorah.”

She nodded and smiled, “We are truly blessed.” 

///////////////

The Luke Shrine

Vader’s Palace

Imperial Center

2 hours later

Darth Vader spoke, “I find your hovering annoying, Ahsoka Tano.”

The Togruta stepped carefully into the room and halted near the door. Her Force sense was, if not hostile, at least both cautious and ready for anything he cared to throw her way.

“You are on duty now, making sure I don’t do anything nefarious?” he inquired sarcastically.

“Indeed,” she returned with equal sarcasm, “Luke and Mara are off, Leia and I are on.”

“And the princess is ...?”

“In the main room, working on remaking the galactic government into a healthier entity. On the one hand, it wouldn’t be hard to make some improvements. On the other hand, she’s politically brilliant so it will be more than just a bit better. It will be a lot better. If you cooperate, of course.”

He turned to stare at his former padawan.

“She is so much like her mother.”

Tano took one step closer and tilted her head thoughtfully, “In looks and political acumen, yes. Personality wise, she’s more like Anakin Skywalker. Luke has Padme’s optimism and heart. They are both amazing people.”

Vader’s heart thumped four, five, six times.

“Yes, they are.”

There was a long pause as the two gazed at one another.

“Why are you here, Ahsoka?”

One eyebrow lifted as Tano responded, “I came here to help take down Palpatine, of course. And as an added bonus, I’m enjoying the opportunity to give you a piece of my mind. You were impetuous and reckless, but you were a good man and a good master, not a butcherer of children and an enslaver. What happened to you, Anakin Skywalker?”

The prosthetic hands clenched in anger, “That name no longer has any meaning for me. That man died long ago.”

“And yet,” Tano responded drily, “you claim his children.”

A pause.

“They are my flesh and blood, and the future of the galaxy,” he responded carefully, “It is my duty to ...”

Here he floundered. What was his duty? He’d hacked off his son’s hand and tortured his daughter. What was left but to try to make things, if not right, at least better?

He started over, “It is my duty to teach them the Dark ways. The Light Side is weak.”

“I assure you,” Tano replied firmly, “there is nothing weak about either of your children.”

Vader considered this at some length. That was certainly true. Both his children had been pushed by him to limits that would have destroyed most sentients, and had stood firm against him – Leia in the Death Star’s dark bowels, Luke on Bespin’s gantry. 

“They would be stronger still if they embraced the power of the Dark Side,” he said, though admittedly without much passion. Did the Dark Side really matter as much as he had long believed?

“What happened to you, Master?” Ahsoka asked, her eyes softer.

He hesitated, looked down, “I ... I wished to save Padme from death in childbirth. I believed that through the power of the Dark Side, I could save her.”

“Which it did not.”

“No. Indeed, my actions ...,” he trailed away. He knew, deep inside, that his decisions during those horrible days had been at least partially responsible for his beloved wife’s death.

Ahsoka Tano sighed deeply, “There is a way that appears to be right,

but in the end it leads to death.”

The Dark Lord turned to her in surprise.

“It’s a proverb,” she said gently, then continued rather unsteadily, “I’ve missed you, you know.”

Four more breaths, then he said with some surprise, “I ... have missed you too, Snips.” 

Author Note: Ahsoka’s ‘proverb’ is from Proverbs 14:12.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 8 

Officer’s Recreation Room

The Executor

In orbit around Imperial Center

0630 hours the next day

Admiral Firmus Piett stepped into the well appointed officer’s rec room and then halted in surprise. He had expected the room to be empty at this hour but no, a very familiar individual sat on a chair facing the door, frowning down at a holopad.

“General Veers,” Piett said, saluting rather blearily

“Piett!” Veers replied with a smile, “No need to be formal at this insane hour of the morning, is there?”

Piett allowed himself a returning grin, “I guess not.”

He and General Veers had been colleagues for some time. What had started out as cautious civility had morphed into respect and finally into friendship. Both men had served, and survived, as high ranking officers under Darth Vader for some years, which put them in a very rare class of individuals indeed. 

Piett lowered himself onto another chair with a sigh and took a long swig of the caf in his hand. Veers, apparently sensing his mood, returned to perusing the datapad.

After a minute of silence and stimulant coursing through his veins, Piett felt up to some conversation.

“When did you get back, Maximilian?”

“A couple of hours ago,” the other man answered, “Aboard the Avenger. We were in the midst of AT-AT training exercises when the Emperor’s death was announced. We rushed back as quickly as possible, but we were on Tatooine so it took quite a while.”

The admiral frowned, “Tatooine?”

“Yes, northern hemisphere. Hot and sandy. Quite a challenge for the AT-ATs.”

Piett nodded, “I can well imagine. Worse than the snows of Hoth?”

Veers nodded wearily, “We’ve made adjustments since Hoth but yes, sand is very tricky. So what brings you here this early, Piett?”

It sounded like a banal question, but Piett knew there was significant curiosity in those intelligent eyes.

“My sister-in-law, niece, and nephew are staying in my quarters,” he responded truthfully. “And my niece is 8 years old and noisy. I’m escaping.”

There was a broad chuckle from the other man, “I heard you had your family in residence, which is truly bizarre. A child on the Executor? I presume her mother has not trained her well?”

Piett frowned as he thought this over, “No, Raina is actually well disciplined. But she is intensely curious and everything new that strikes her young eyes provokes question upon question. Thankfully, she sleeps well at night but she started asking rapid fire questions 30 minutes ago while gulping down her convor eggs and after 20 minutes, I fled. My brain is still recovering. I’m not accustomed to children.”

Veers smiled and typed a few characters into his holopad, then looked up, his face now serious.

“So what is he like?”

Piett did not pretend to misunderstand, “Young, relatively short, good looking, and death unleashed.”

Veers lifted an eyebrow, “And yet I understand our casualties during his capture were minimal?”

The admiral snorted, “Because he wasn’t fighting us. He was focused on taking down the Yakoska Pirates, and did so very thoroughly with my nephew’s help, as it happens. The base was a smoking ruin when they were done.”

Veers’s expression changed from curious to cold, and Piett explained hastily, “My nephew is not a Rebel, Maximilian. He believed that Skywalker was an Imperial Dark Ops agent and assisted him in destroying the base.”

“And Lord Vader concurs with your assessment?”

Piett’s eyes grew hard, “If Max was a Rebel, he would either be dead or languishing in one of the Executor’s cells.”

Veers nodded, his face relaxing.

“His name is Max? Should I be flattered?”

Firmus shook his head, “I was away on a six month training session when Maximus was born. I don’t know why Tractus and Denorah gave him that name ...”

He was a quiet for a moment, “I’ve missed most of my niece and nephew’s lives, regrettably.”

“It is an inevitable aspect of our career path, Firmus,” Veers responded, his eyes glittering with anger and something that might have been grief. “It is regrettable that the young do not understand the necessity for family sacrifice due to military demands.”

“You aren’t the only Imperial officer to have a son defect to the Rebel Alliance,” Piett responded compassionately.

“Zevulon is no longer my son,” the general said, his face blank. “He is dead to me.”

Piett nodded, wisely keeping his mouth shut.

“And Firmus,” Veers added, looking down, “while some of the rank and file may have relatives on the other side, none of high rank do. Name one other, if you can.”

Piett gritted his teeth before replying, “I cannot.”

(Because he’d find himself permanently short of breath if he betrayed his Lord, and his Lord’s son.)

“So,” Veers asked, clearly wishing to change the subject, “I presume Skywalker is being held under very strict security here on the Executor?”

Piett shook his head, “He’s on planet with Lord Vader.”

He spoke honestly, but he was wrong. At that moment, the door slid open, and the sounds of rhythmic respirations caused both men to leap abruptly to their feet.

Darth Vader strode into the room with four individuals following him. All four were relatively young. One was Luke Skywalker, another was the Rebel Princess Leia Organa, another was a red haired beauty Piett did not recognize. The 4th individual looked especially menacing to Piett. She was a Togruta, tall, with blue and white montrals, and twin lightsabers hanging at her waist. 

At least the three humans only had one lightsaber each.

Sands of Jakku.

“Very plush!” Skywalker said in an admiring tone, spinning around slowly to admire the decorating.

“Is that an Alderaanian moss painting?” Leia Organa asked in a surprised tone.

Vader turned to gaze at the art work in question, “I ... am not sure. I have only been in here once or twice ...”

The princess abruptly looked forlorn and rather child-like, “It is beautiful ...”

“It is yours,” the Dark Lord replied promptly.

There was a long, bewildered pause from the two Imperial officers, and then Skywalker stepped forward.

“General Veers? I’m Luke Skywalker.”

“I recognize you,” Veers responded with ice in his voice. Clearly angered, the general turned to his master now, “May I ask, Lord Vader, what these traitors are doing wandering the Executor both unrestrained and armed?”

“You may not,” Vader snarled, one hand rising.

Veers grabbed at his throat, his face taking on the dreadful hue of one suddenly deprived of oxygen.

Piett cringed in sorrow and dismay. Veers was a friend, yes, but when Vader was enraged, to attempt to calm his wrath was suicidal ...

A moment later, Skywalker and Organa had lifted their own hands. Veers suddenly gasped as oxygen filled his lungs, even as the diminutive princess turned to glare at the Dark Lord of the Sith.

“Seriously? You just choke your men for reasonable questions?”

Vader glared back, “There can be no military cohesiveness or order without immediate obedience.”

“Fa ... Lord Vader,” Skywalker said, “this isn’t a question of disobeying an order. General Veers is asking a reasonable and pertinent question.”

“The former Emperor’s penchant for autocratic rule and blind obedience was a significant factor in his destruction,” the princess chimed in. “Communication is important for both superior and underling.”

There was a startled pause by the officers, who waited for an explosion from the Sith.

Instead, the Dark Lord looked first at one Rebel, then the other, and gestured with one gauntleted hand.

“Very well, communicate if you wish,” he suggested sarcastically. 

“Thank you,” Skywalker said earnestly, and turned back to the officers.

“General Veers, I realize this situation is indeed confusing to you. The most important data point, previously a secret, is that I am Lord Vader’s son.”

There was a long incredulous pause. Piett’s eyes flicked over to Veers, who was literally reeling in disbelief.

“Your father?” asked Veers in blank tone, “As in ...”

The young Jedi’s eyebrows arched, “As in, Lord Vader was married to my mother and she conceived a child.”

“She conceived twins, actually,” Leia Organa continued firmly. “Luke and me. I am Luke’s twin sister and Lord Vader’s biological daughter.”

Now Piett reeled with Veers. Leia Organa of Alderaan was Vader’s mysterious daughter?

“And a few days ago, while my brother was distracting Lord Vader and the Emperor, I infiltrated the Throne Room on the Imperial Palace and plunged my lightsaber into Palpatine’s chest, killing him.”

Veers stood very still for a long moment, his face pale.

“It’s rather a shock, I know,” Skywalker said in a sympathetic tone. “Feel free to sit down if you like. It’s been a crazy week for all of us, but we’ve had more time to assimilate it. By the way, I just saw your son Zev a few weeks ago. He’s doing well, if that is any encouragement.”

“My son is dead to me,” Veers said, sitting down with a thump which indicated he didn’t have complete control of his limbs.

“And why is that?” Organa demanded.

“Because he ...” the general began, then trailed off.

“Defected to the Alliance, General Veers?” the woman continued, her eyes alight with mischief. “Well, your Lord, soon to be your Emperor, has two Rebel scum as children. Maybe you and Zevulon can work something out.”

“Luke darling?” the red haired woman had plugged into a nearby com network and was staring intently at the screen. “Can you convince your father to come over here and bypass this stupid security protocol? I need access to the system files to find all the Rebels in custody on Imperial Center and in the local fleet, plus I want to run that mouse droid spy program, just to test it ...”

Luke darling?

Piett slugged down the last of his now lukewarm caf. He could tell it was going to be a thoroughly exhausting day. 

///////////////////------------------

Imperial Holonet Network Studio A

Imperial City

Imperial Center

6 hours later

“This is Cray Shifton of the Imperial Holonet Network. Two hours ago, Darth Vader was crowned Emperor of the known galaxy. It was a private ceremony with only the highest ranking Imperials and members of the Imperial Council present. A source, who does not wish to be named, stated that the observance was solemn and inspiring. Relinka, your thoughts?”

The woman with flowing magenta hair turned a serious face to the holocam, “Cray, I am sure I speak for all of us here on Imperial Center and across the worlds in wishing his Highness the very best. We are thankful to have such a great man leading us as Emperor, one who can maintain order in the aftershocks of Emperor Palpatine’s tragic assassination.”

“Indeed,” Cray said a trifle absently as he read his holoreader, “citizens of the galaxy, I have truly exciting news! In exactly four hours, his Royal Highness, Emperor Vader, will be here at this studio for a personal interview with Relinka and me. What an honor! And since we need to prepare, we will turn the rest of this broadcast over to our reporter Kenton Sizt, who will describe, in detail, the monument being erected for Emperor Palpatine’s tomb.”

He signed off and turned to Relinka, who promptly burst into noisy tears.

“Relinka?” he demanded, aghast, “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t do this,” she whimpered. “I’m afraid of him!”

Cray took several deep, calming breaths. Emperor Vader was terrifying, and his co-host melting down was not at all helpful.

“It will be fine,” he said in a reassuring tone meant for both of them.

“No, it won’t!” she shot back. “He’s tall and has that dark armor and scary breathing and he is going to kill me! I’m bubbly and have funky hair. Most sentients like me this way! But I don’t think the Emperor likes bubbles!”

“Relinka,” Cray sighed, then tilted his head, “you have four hours. Why don’t you at least change your hair? Sith black, perhaps?”

//////////////---------

Holocall between Mon Mothma of the Rebel Alliance and Leia Organa

“This is crazy, Leia! You can’t just announce to the galaxy that you are Darth Vader’s daughter!”

“I most certainly can, Mon, and I will. Why shouldn’t I? I am not responsible for the disaster that is his life. Luke and I are innocent victims.”

“But Leia,” the red haired leader of the Alliance sighed deeply, “you are one of the heroes of the Rebellion, as is your brother. What do you think will happen when our allies, our troops, learn that Skywalker and Organa are the children of their greatest enemy?”

“And what do you think will happen to the Imperial enthusiasts when the Emperor of the galaxy announces that his two children are notable Rebels?”

There was a pause as Mon Mothma considered this, “I don’t know. My first thought is that they’ll assume you and Luke have given up your rebellious tendencies because you want the power and glory of the Imperial throne.”

Leia gazed in shock at her friend and mentor, and then began laughing, “Ok, we will make it clear that is not happening.”

“Vader may not give you an option, Leia.”

The last princess of Alderaan sighed, “Mon, I hate Vader, I do. But ... at some level he really cares about Luke and me. I would say in many ways, in most ways, in all ways really, he is obsessed with our welfare. Not that that is healthy, but I assure you he will not attack us in the middle of a live interview in the official Imperial Holonet studio. We’re going to talk it out, live. We’re going to argue. It’s going to be messy. I’m going to have fun.”

Mothma was now looking befuddled, “You are going to argue with Darth Vader in a galaxy wide broadcast?”

“Oh yes,” Leia responded with a wicked smile. “And there might be some gratuitous displays of public affection too. Han just got in and he will be joining us. That will freak our precious father out.”

“This sounds like a terrible idea, Leia! The man is not stable! You can’t just challenge him publicly and not expect a strong reaction!”

“Well, if it comes to that,” Leia responded reasonably enough, “we’re not entirely stable either. Don’t worry. The reality is that Luke is nearly as strong as Vader, and I’m no slouch with a lightsaber either. And we have Ahsoka and Mara in the wings, so to speak. We’re a tough bunch.”

The woman shot one last beaming smile at Mothma, “Don’t worry, Mon, it will be fine. I need to go now. Organa out.”

In the Rebel ship Liberty, in orbit around Sullust, Mon Mothma leaned back in her chair and shook her head. This upcoming interview would be epic, but whether an epic triumph or disaster remained to be seen.

///////////////////-----------------

Darth Vader’s palace

Imperial City

Imperial Center

Darth Vader turned on the last holo as his daughter’s brisk steps marched toward the open door, then stopped. A moment later, she walked into the room and froze in disbelief.

Vader waited with more anxiety than was perhaps warranted. He hoped she liked it ...

“It is times like these,” she said finally, “that I realize just how odd you are.”

“What is odd, Princess Leia?” he asked with genuine curiosity, “I have been separated from you most of your life, and our previous interactions were regrettably entirely negative. I am completely to blame for that, I know. I wish to have more positive images of you in my home.”

Leia sighed and looked around at the Leia Shrine. There were pictures from her time as Princess of Alderaan, images from various missions where holocams had caught sight of her. Even an image from the Imperial Throne Room; while Mara had managed to blank the holocams during the assassination of the Emperor, Vader had obviously managed to track down a stored copy somewhere. Front and center in this room was a holo of Leia, hand outstretched, with a brilliant blue lightsaber thrust into Palpatine’s chest.

“Incredible,” Leia muttered.

Author Note: Many thanks for your continued encouragement, readers and reviewers!


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 9

Author Note: This chapter is a bit more cracky. I think.

Makeshift holotransmission studio

Imperial Arms Storage Facility #5

Imperial City

Imperial Center

3 hours later

Relinka Spetzv, cohost of the Imperial Broadcasting Center’s most popular reporting team, took a deep cleansing breath and stepped into the studio.

Or something. What was this place?

“Uh, what is this place?” she asked in bewilderment.

An extremely attractive redhead stepped forward with a slight smile, “It was a storage facility for Imperial weapons so it is highly secure. At the moment, it’s empty, so it’s an excellent choice for this interview. We decided that your main studio was too risky a locale for this event.”

Relinka lifted her brows slightly as she focused on the woman. In addition to the flaming red curls, the woman had green eyes and sculpted cheekbones. She was dressed in a rather severe black robe and was both exotic and beautiful.

“I'm sorry,” the woman said suddenly, “we haven’t been introduced. I’m Agent Jade.”

Relinka shot a bewildered look at Cray Shifton, who explained soothingly, “Emperor Vader sent her over to facilitate the interview.”

“I see. Will his Royal Highness be here soon?” Spetzv asked nervously. She had changed her hair, to unremitting black, and her dress was a subdued, if very expensive, gray. She hoped the Emperor would like .... no, that was too much to hope for. She hoped he wouldn’t dislike her too much and physically toss her out of this sad excuse for studio.

“Yes, he’s almost here.”

Indeed, he was. A moment later, the door at the back of the large, echoing warehouse opened and the giant cyborg surged in. Behind him were three other individuals, a short, dark haired beauty dressed in a simple and very unfashionable tan dress, a young man, dark blond, dressed in black with a peculiar hilt at his waist, and a tall, dark, and handsome rogue dressed in ... Corellian bloodstripes?

The hovercams clicked on and the Holonet broadcast began for the benefit of all beings, and any interested mosses, across the galaxy.

Relinka took a deep breath as she sank to one knee. At her side, Cray also kneeled obsequiously. Relinka noted, distractedly, that Agent Jade and the members retinue did not kneel. 

“This is creepy and weird,” Luke commented telepathically to his father.

“It is a normal form of homage to a ruler,” Vader replied, suppressing his own unease. He had kneeled at the feet of others, but until he had been crowned Emperor yesterday, no one had literally fallen to their knees before him in obeisance. He had longed for ultimate power for so long, but now that he had it, it felt strange. For some reason, it reminded him of his youth, of kneeling before Gardulla the Hutt as a tiny child.

No, he would not think of that.

“I still don’t like it,” his son replied.

“You may rise,” Vader intoned firmly. The two Imperial Holonet hosts rose meekly to their feet, while Jade gazed at him thoughtfully.

“Your Highness.”

It was the male, Cray Shifton. He was less intimidated than the woman.

“Your Highness, perhaps you and your, urgh, companions would care to sit down?”

Vader glanced around unenthusiastically. The room itself was appealing in that it was bare and ascetic, devoid of annoying purple swirls or other ‘artistic’ renderings. The chair set aside for him was large, as was necessary. However, he didn’t want to be here doing a Holonet interview, of all things. But Leia had wanted it, and he wanted to be on good (or at least reasonable) terms with Leia, so here he was.

“Please do sit down, your Highness,” Luke said with a mischievous look in his eyes.

The Sith did so, sinking with some care into the chair. It held. It didn’t even quiver. Good chair.

“So, Host Shifton and Host Spetzv,” Jade was speaking now, “may I introduce you to Commander Luke Skywalker?”

Shifton stepped forward with a forced, plastic smile, but Relinka squeaked aloud as the name registered in her brain.

“Skywalker? As in ...”

Jade continued smoothly, “Yes, as in Luke Skywalker of the Rebel Alliance.”

The woman gestured now with one hand; a large holoscreen which was hanging on one side of the room lit up to show Luke’s most recent Wanted Poster. He was dressed in black and had a menacing scowl marring his features.

“Do I really look like that?” Skywalker demanded in surprise. He turned to the princess, “Leia, I don’t usually sneer like that, do I?”

The princess tilted her head thoughtfully and nodded, “Yes, I think you’re right, Luke. They messed with your expression in this holo. What’s that about, your Highness?”

Vader’s tone was vaguely outraged, “I do not know. It was foolishness, certainly. They no doubt wished you to look more sinister, but how can anyone be expected to recognize you if your holo is inaccurate?” 

The holoscreen changed again to show Leia Organa’s wanted holo. She too had a grumpy expression on her face at odds with her normal expression, and her hair was flowing wildly around her shoulders.

Vader surged to his feet, “Idiocy! That holo isn’t accurate either.”

“Actually ...,” Leia commented thoughtfully, “Maybe it is. Do you remember, Luke? That mission to Carida? I was right in the middle of a fancy restaurant meal with my sweetheart ...” 

Here the woman shot a glowing look at the taller man, who was standing to one side looking cocky.

“And some bonehead bounty hunter and his minions ...”

“Oh yeah!” Luke replied. “I totally remember that. You were so mad because we had to run for our lives before you got to eat your white-chocolate bread pudding.”

“That was enraging,” the princess agreed, her brow furrowing ominously. 

Shifton was taking deep breaths to avoid hyperventilating, while Relinka’s wide eyes were on Agent Jade.

“What ... what is going on? Why are two high profile Rebels ... here?” she asked weakly.

“Well, I’ll let the Emperor explain that,” Jade said gravely, but with the corners of her mouth curving up just slightly. 

Darth Vader stepped closer to the Holonet hosts and the cams. There was a long, drawn out, scary pause, and then the bass voice intoned firmly, “They are here because Commander Luke Skywalker and Princess Leia Organa, both of the Rebel Alliance, are my twin children.”

/////////////////-----------------

Across the galaxy, beings of all races, species, and appendages dropped glasses of alcohol, fainted, drooled, yelped, squeaked, and wandered indifferently off to the refresher at this stunning announcement.

On the Executor, Denorah Piett turned to stare in disbelief at her son Max.

“Max, did you know about this?”

Maximus opened his mouth, then closed it as Raina, mercifully, interrupted.

“Max, Mother! If starships use atomic energy to fuel their hyperdrive jumps, why would you ever have to worry about fuel? That doesn’t make sense!” 

“Of course they wouldn’t dear. It’s been centuries since starships used some sort of ‘fuel’ that needed to be refilled. Can you just imagine a starship running out of fuel?! In the middle of space?!” Denorah laughed. 

You say the silliest things sometimes,” she added with a warm smile and a kiss on the top of the head.

On the Rebel Alliance command vessel Liberty, Mon Mothma sat back and drank her Chandrilan tea as the members of Alliance High Command howled and yowled and asked for strong alcoholic drinks.

And on Imperial Center itself, epic fashion designer Ransome Quiltratz made an immediate call to his closest friend and business partner.

“Jem, Jem! Get your printing factories ready to roll! I want both cheap and expensive copies of the Emperor’s children’s attire ready by tomorrow. I want it on the streets, in the boutiques, everywhere ...”

A moment later, “I know, I know, they are both fashion disasters! Boring! But it doesn’t matter. They are fashion gold right now regardless of their horrifying lack of style ... it’s so bad, it will almost certainly spark an entire new trend; I smell credits!!”

////////////////----------------

Makeshift studio

Relinka wobbled slightly as her mouth hung open in a most unbecoming way. Cray, at her right, wasn’t doing much better.

To the relief of both, Agent Jade spoke now, “Your Highness, this is of course a great surprise to the citizens of the galaxy. May I ask what your intentions are? On the one hand, the Rebellion is engaging in an open and rather vicious war with the Galactic Empire. On the other hand, I presume that since your children are here with you that you’ve come to some kind of an agreement with them? Or with the Alliance?”

The Sith looked first at his son, who raised an eyebrow, and then at his daughter, whose expression was tumultuous in the extreme.

“We ... have not come to any agreement, no,” Vader said cautiously. “But we are discussing various considerations and concerns about the state of the Galactic Empire ...”

“Like it is a truly terrible entity,” Organa said boldly and coldly. “It’s abusive and dictatorial and it has to change.”

“And as we have discussed, albeit briefly,” Vader said, turning toward his daughter, “that the Old Republic was not, as your Rebel Alliance claims, the glorious beacon of democracy and freedom that you wish to believe it was. There was corruption, and suffering, and confusion, and a lack of viable cohesion which led to a long and painful war with millions of civilian casualties.”

“Palpatine started that war,” the princess retorted in outrage.

A long pause, then a sigh, “Indeed, that is true. Nevertheless, the Senate and the Jedi were both sufficiently blinded by their outdated beliefs and smug superiority that they played into his hands.”

The tiny princess stepped closer still, “Blind they may have been, but they didn’t murder and destroy and manipulate an entire galaxy for personal gain, which is exactly what Palpatine did. And I assure you that neither Luke nor I will support you if you plan to do exactly the same thing.”

“There must be order,” the Emperor intoned firmly, “or all will dissolve into chaos. Not all can be sweetness and light in a galaxy full of billions upon billions of sentients, many of whom are as selfish as you claim my predecessor was. At times, hard, even harsh, decisions must be made.”

“Like the destruction of an entire planet?” the princess asked, her voice suddenly husky. 

Vader froze, then took a horrified step backwards. Alderaan ...

“There are those, Princess Leia,” Agent Jade suddenly commented, “who would claim your brother is as guilty as Governor Tarkin on the Death Star. He did, after all, destroy a battle station with more than a million souls on board.”

“Only after the Death Star destroyed my entire homeworld,” Organa returned indignantly.

“No, Leia,” Skywalker interrupted, “Jade is correct. I am well aware that ...”

Here his voice wavered slightly before steadying, “I killed more than a million sentients with one shot, many of them non-combatant workers, some of them prisoners and slave laborers. I do not regret making the shot because it was absolutely necessary. The Death Star had to be destroyed.”

Now the black clad young man turned and faced directly into the holocam which was floating in air on repulsors, “But I do say here and now that I deeply regret those deaths, deeply regret the loss of husbands, wives, sons, daughters. There are hundreds of thousands of families who grieve for family members they will never see again and millions of Imperials who lost brothers and sisters-in-arms. I grieve that my attack on the Death Star has wrought such sorrow in your lives and I ask for your forgiveness.”

There was a pause while Relinka tried to work up enough moisture in her mouth to say something, anything, when Vader spoke again.

“The Death Star was a barbaric tool from its very inception, and its destruction was to the galaxy’s benefit. The loss of life when you destroyed it, my son, was most regrettable, but it was necessary.”

“But now you command a battle fleet in the form of the Executor and its companion Star Destroyers which can destroy, if not a planet, the surface of a planet, along with its people,” Princess Leia continued steadily, “so the danger continues for the people longing for freedom in the galaxy.”

“Princess Leia ...” Vader began, sighed loudly enough to be heard through the vocoder. “My daughter, your ... idealism is admirable, but we live in a dangerous galaxy, in dangerous times. Surely you must realize that I am not the only Dark Side user of the Force that exists? There are other beings out there, other governments, other entities, which would seek to topple this Galactic Empire for sinister, not benevolent purposes. Only through the power of the Dark Side can we achieve stability for the benefit of the myriad peoples of this galaxy.”

Luke Skywalker took a sudden lurch forward, his calm expression morphing into one of mild outrage, “You know, Father, since the very first time I met you, the very first time, you’ve been harping about how the Dark Side is stronger. That is not true. The Light Side of the Force, which depends on peace and compassion and selfless devotion allows people like me, like Leia, to do good things for the benefit of those in need.”

“The Dark Side is stronger,” his father interrupted, leaning forward to tower over his significantly shorter son, “As Anakin Skywalker, I fought with the Light Side, as a Jedi Knight. As Darth Vader, I have fought with the power of the Dark Side. I assure you, my son, it is stronger, whether you like it or not.”

Luke took yet another step forward, tilting his head up even more to stare into the black mask, “This is about Bespin, isn’t it?”

“Bespin?” Vader stuttered, flinching slightly.

“Yeah, Bespin. You know, where you beat the pudding out of me? Where you tossed me through a window? Yes, I stunk. I know, I was really really bad. But that wasn’t because I was using the Light Side, it was because I was inexperienced! I am way, way, way better now with a couple more years of fighting and practicing, whether you believe or not! And as you know, Emperor Palpatine died at the hands of a Light Side user!”

Vader began backpeddling both physically and verbally, “I ... have no doubt at all that you have much improved. In fact, I know you have. I observed your most skilled attack against those pirates on Camden. But the reality is that while you have great strength, and great skill, the Dark Side will inevitably give me a significant edge in battle.”

“Well Ok then,” his son said with a dramatic flourish of his lightsaber, which suddenly hissed to life, “Let’s figure it out. You and me, right here, right now. Not to the death, or the dismemberment, but to find out who really is best.”

The Dark Lord stared at his son, appalled, “Luke, this is most unnecessary.”

“It is necessary,” the boy said, his chin, so much like Anakin’s, lifted toward his father’s mask. His father could sense the resolution in his boy’s spirit. There was no turning back. Luke, for some reason, needed this, even though it would no doubt end in tears.

“Very well,” his father said reluctantly as he lit his own sword, “To the ... to the honor.”

“Mara?” Leia asked telepathically. “Did you know that Luke was planning this?”

“I might have,” her sister-in-law responded. It was surprising how the amusement was extremely obvious through the Force.

“Are you crazy? Is Luke? We have to stop them! They are going to kill each other!”

“Stop two alpha males working through serious relationship issues by beating at each other with glowing sticks? Not wise. And besides, they won’t do any serious harm.”

“Mara, you can’t know that!”

“No, Leia, don’t worry,” Mara said reassuringly. 

Here the telepathic voice grew more serious, “Luke has something to prove, but the reality is that they really do care deeply for one another.”


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 10 

Tosche Station

Tatooine

“Get me another ebla beer, will you darling?” Laze ‘Fixer’ Loneozner asked his wife Camie.

“Sorry, my dear,” she replied absently, her eyes fixed on the holoscreen, “I’m not missing any of this. I’m betting on Luke.”

“You’re crazy, woman,” Fixer responded with a grin, “Vader all the way. Luke? Luke Skywalker? Our Luke Skywalker? Against Vader?”

“Against his dad?” Camie reached over and grabbed some flatbread, stuffing it into her mouth. “He’s a generation younger with, incredibly enough, the same blood as the Emperor. If I’m right, you clean out the oil tanks tonight. Deal?”

“Deal!”

“Go Luke!”

/////////////

Makeshift holotransmission studio

Imperial Arms Storage Facility #5

Imperial City

Imperial Center

Darth Vader and Luke Skywalker circled. Luke held the classic attack stance of Form V, and his father held his saber in the appropriate answering pose.

There was a long, dramatic silence.

The onlookers in the room, and countless billions of sentients across the galaxy (and a few interested mosses) waited with baited breath.

And Relinka Spetzv, co-host extraordinaire, began squealing.

Loudly. At a very high pitch.

Luke took a couple of steps back and turned to look at the woman.

“Uh, is she Ok?” he asked in a worried tone.

“Relinka!” Cray said in horror. “Relinka! Snap out of it.”

“Son, if we are going to do this ...” Vader said in a tone which was weary through the vocoder.

“No, no, the poor woman might be having a heart attack or something! Some people think we’re a bit much.”

The overactive hovering holocam decided that Relinka was more interesting than tiresome discussion, and turned its focused gaze on Spetzv. She had backed into a corner of the room, her face was ashen, her breath rapid. A moment later, Princess Leia and Han Solo were leaning over her, their faces concerned.

The princess placed one gentle hand on the woman’s shoulder, closed her eyes, concentrated, then nodded.

“Just hyperventilation. She’s Ok. We are, as Luke says, a bit much. Go ahead. We’ll help her out. Does anyone have a paper bag?”

“I do!” Agent Jade announced, pulling a strange white object out of a random pocket.

Cray was goggling now in horror. The best, the best possible telecast in his entire career and Relinka was wrecking it ...

“Turn back to the Emperor,” he ordered the holocam, which obeyed, though reluctantly.

Luke and Vader approached one another again and resumed their positions.

There was another long pause.

And the battle began. 

The flurry of lightsaber blows against one another, red against green, tall cyborg against youth, was a sight to behold indeed. First Vader seemed to dominate as he pushed Skywalker back several meters. But then, in a move that had Cray and the mosses gasping in amazement, Skywalker leaped into the air three meters, whipped over Vader’s head to land behind him, spun around and abruptly seemed to have the upper hand.

Another flurry of blade against blade ensued, and then the combatants both, by apparently mutual agreement, stopped to catch their breath.

Or something. Did Vader breathe faster when exerting himself? Apparently not, as a lone analyst somewhere on Corellia began throwing up Holonet information on his personal site showing that Vader’s breathing patterns remained unchanged regardless of the situation at hand.

Which was truly amazing.

“Obi-Wan has taught you well,” Vader admitted, a trifle reluctantly.

“He did his part,” his son replied rather cheekily. “But actually I learned far more from Master Yoda, and, to give you credit, I picked up a lot at Bespin.”

“Yoda?”

Now his father was truly angry. That old troll was still alive?

The Dark Lord surged forward now, his blade striking down toward his son. Luke dodged behind the Emperor’s hapless chair, which was promptly cut in half by the red laser of destruction.

“Yoda lives?” the Emperor snarled.

“No, no, no,” Skywalker replied soothingly. “He keeled over from old age more than a year ago.”

“Good,” his father replied, relaxing slightly. That was a mistake, because Luke suddenly charged forward, his saber twisting and turning. Vader whipped away and avoided any injury, but his cloak was partially cut off.

With a growl, he picked up both halves of the now defunct chair, and hurled them at Luke, who cut one piece in half and sent another flying using the Force.

“Hey, watch it!” Leia called out, using the Force to deflect a random section of chair which had come close to smashing Cray Shifton in the face.

“Sorry!” her twin called back as he did a sudden leap onto a balcony perched on one side of the warehouse.

“We’re going to die. We’re all going to die!” Relinka panted softly into her paper bag.

“No, we’re fine,” Jade murmured soothingly, using the Force to calm the poor woman down. “Everything is going to be fine.”

Vader paced for a long moment, considering, then leaped to another balcony positioned at a right angle to, but at the same level as, Luke’s balcony.

It wobbled under his weight for a few seconds, then parted ways with the wall. Vader fell ignominiously back to the floor, though he succeeded in landing on his feet.

“It seems, my son,” he commented drily, “that this locale is better suited to your weight than mine.”

“Kind of like how Bespin was set up to suit you?” Luke snapped back in a snarky tone, “Carbon freeze chamber, large windows, nearly bottomless chasms ...”

“I can say, from personal experience, that carbon freeze is definitely no fun,” remarked the tall cocky Corellian, who had been silent thus far.

Darth Vader chose to ignore these statements and instead abruptly hurled his lightsaber toward his son, who easily avoided it by lurching to the right. But the saber did cut the balcony from the wall, and a moment later Luke had tumbled to the floor. The battle was joined again. The two fought in a vicious but beautiful dance, one with no injuries but plenty of intensity, until Luke’s saber struck and broke one of the supporting pillars in the room. 

With a resounding crack, the pillar gave way. Both Vader and Skywalker avoided it easily but the roof, 7 meters up, began to make unnerving noises.

“Better get everyone out of here, Leia and Mara!” Luke yelled telepathically.

“Come on,” Leia said urgently to her companions, “The building isn’t entirely stable. We need to find a safe place outside.”

Cray frowned hideously, “Do we have to? This is like the ... event of the century.”

“Yes, we do,” Relinka squeaked, running for the door. 

“You sure they’ll be all right in here?” Han asked his wife softly.

“I don’t know. Ask Mara. This was her crazy idea.”

“No,” Mara said as she brought up the rear, “actually, it was Luke’s idea.”

As the door closed behind them, another pillar bit the dust and the building shook noticeably.

Outside the building, a large, barren, paved area was enclosed with laser fencing to keep hypothetical enemies from stealing the (nonexistent) weapons in the facility. It was therefore safe.

Cray hoped.

The hovering holocam was still on inside at least. He quickly keyed up his holopad and watched with intense fascination as the duel continued for 18 seconds. And then, Skywalker gestured with his left hand, a random chair leaped up, threw itself at Vader, who promptly hit it with his sword, whereupon the pieces hurled themselves toward the holocam at great speed.

The cam went dead.

Shifton gasped in horror. What was he going to do now? The holocam was off, the Emperor was inside engaged in the duel of the century with his son, and he was cut off from it all.

It was a total nightmare for an Imperial Holonet host. Loss of face, loss of honor, loss of reputation ...

He started to hyperventilate.

“Here, Cray,” Relinka said firmly. She was on her feet now and, away from Vader, had calmed down suddenly and completely, “take my bag.”

She handed her co-host the paper bag, pushed Cray out of the way, made a few quick taps to her own holopad, pulled an audio transmitter out of a carefully concealed pocket, and turned toward Princess Leia.

“Your Highness, we’ve lost the holocam inside. We don’t have visual out here yet, though a holocam should be here shortly, but at least we can talk about today’s exciting events for the benefit of the Beings of the galaxy. First of all, are you concerned about your brother and your father fighting in there?”

Leia’s brow furrowed slightly, “Host Shifton, I want to make it clear that while the Emperor is biologically my father, my true father was, and always will be, Bail Organa, who was killed when the Empire’s Death Star destroyed Alderaan.”

Relinka took a deep breath and then nodded encouragingly, “I see. So how long have you known about ...”

“My blood ties to the Emperor?” the Princess inquired drily. “I learned about it about 18 months ago. It was definitely a surprise. Finding out that Luke is my twin brother was a delightful surprise; Vader as biological paternal parent was far less wonderful.”

Relinka took a deep breath and flashed out her encouraging, 125 watt smile, “I can imagine that as a Rebel leader, that would be a challenge. So Princess Leia ...”

She trailed off even as the Jade, Organa, and Solo abruptly looked up into the sky. A small craft appeared overhead, hovered, and then something ejected from its belly.

Spetzv smiled to herself in relief, then froze in horror as the man abruptly pulled a blaster and aimed it upwards.

“Sir, sir!” Spetzv squeaked, “Please don’t shoot our holocam.”

“Holocam, huh?” the man replied, glowering. “It better be.”

“It is,” Agent Jade said firmly as it got closer. “Stand down, Solo.”

The Corellian scowled at the woman, then reluctantly reholstered his weapon.

Relinka took a deep breath. These Rebels sure were trigger happy.

The holocam drifted into position and Relinka turned it on, first aiming it toward herself.

“Relinka Spetzv here at a secret location on Imperial Center. Behind me, the building in which Emperor Vader and his son, Luke Skywalker, are battling for honor. We regrettably lost our holocam inside, so we don’t know who is prevailing, or even whether one of the combatants has ...”

She trailed away dramatically, but Princess Leia spoke up now, “They are both fine. Tired, but no injuries.”

Relinka blinked. How did this beautiful but unnerving woman know that? 

Behind her, the building made some more unhappy sounds and Relinka spun toward it nervously. But they were far enough away if the whole thing collapsed they should be safe.

She glanced at her co-host, who was still breathing into the bag, and turned back to Leia Organa. Cray had saved her nuna bacon when she’d fallen apart in Vader’s presence; the least she could do was carry on for him now.

“Princess Leia,” she said, assuming an earnest expression, “while we wait to learn the result of this epic battle between father and son, perhaps you’d care to share how you felt when you learned that Emperor Palpatine was dead? I am sure, as a noted Rebel leader, you were ...”

She trailed off invitingly. The princess shot a thoughtful look at her male companion, then smiled slightly.

“Relieved,” the woman responded gravely. “That’s the best word. Relieved. I mean, Palpatine has staved off so many assassination attempts and it truly was a risky operation. When my lightsaber blade plunged into the Emperor’s chest, I was filled with a sense of accomplishment and delight and yes, pride, but mostly relief.”

Relinka felt the blood drain from her face.

“I’m sorry, your Highness,” she said in a higher pitched tone than usual, “are you saying that you, that you, killed Emperor Palpatine?”

The woman actually bared her teeth slightly, her face taking on such a fearsome mien that Spetzv took an involuntary step back, “Indeed I did. Palpatine plotted and manipulated and destroyed to set up the Galactic Empire, which is responsible for the destruction of many billions of sentients, perhaps trillions. On a more personal level, he destroyed my family of birth. He was the primary player in the events leading up to my father’s betrayal of the Jedi and my mother’s death. And of course ...”

Here grief flashed across her face like a tidal wave, “The Death Star was Palpatine’s pet battle station. He poured billions of credits into it and ravaged whole worlds and peoples to have it built. And then he used it on Alderaan ...”

The princess looked down now at her hand, which incredibly enough, had a hilt in it now. She pushed a button and it sprang to life with a hiss of blue light.

“It was my honor and my pleasure and my glory to put an end to the dragon who has kept this galaxy in Darkness for the last 25 years. Death to all tyrants!”

Relinka’s eyes were so wide she was vaguely surprised that her eyeballs didn’t pop out. Deep in her heart, she had truly wondered if Leia Organa of Alderaan was Vader’s daughter, or whether this was all some weird publicity stunt.

She didn’t wonder now. This woman was terrifying.

There was a sudden crash to her right, and she turned suddenly along with anyone else. To her surprise and horror, the building was crumbling!

“Luke!” the Corellian called out in a worried tone.

At that moment, two figures appeared on the roof, first the slighter figure of Luke Skywalker, then the giant cyborg Darth Vader. As bits of masonry and metal struts and glass continued to shatter and fall, as the building walls crumbled around them, the two men leaped back and forth on the unstable, shifting structure battling and fighting and clashing their swords.

Relinka felt her usual terror rising at the sight of Darth Vader, but she managed to suppress it. He certainly wasn’t paying any attention to her.

Abruptly, to her shock, Skywalker did a sudden double twisting backwards somersault and landed only a couple of meters from her. A moment later, Vader was on the ground as well. He’d skipped the fancy acrobatics though.

For a long moment, father and son regarded one another gravely across their blades.

The galaxy waited with them, some actually holding their breath, some gulping down more beer, some taking this moment to run to the kitchen for snacks, many more eagerly placing additional bets on the results of the duel.

Skywalker broke the tableau first by lowering his blade.

“So ... I will admit, Father, that I am very very tired. You are still the amazing fighter I remember from Bespin.”

A long pause, and the Dark Lord also lowered his saber, “Your fatigue is likely less drastic than mine, Son. I have more than 2 decades on you, after all.”

A slow smile lit up Luke’s face, followed by his finger pushing the button’s saber to turn it off.

“Truce?” he asked hopefully.

Vader also turned off his lightsaber.

“Truce,” the Dark Lord rumbled in assent, then added, “you are an excellent fighter, Luke. I have not met someone so closely matched to me in decades.”

“It’s like I’m your son or something,” the youth responded with a grin.

The Dark Lord stepped forward to place a heavy hand on his son’s shoulders, “I am willing to concede that your view of Dark and Light may possibly be correct. You drew upon the Light and I upon the Dark, and we were indeed very evenly matched.”

Agent Jade now stepped forward, and to the surprise of almost everyone, twined what was undoubtedly an affectionate arm around Skywalker.

“You did great, Farmboy.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he returned lightly, then bent down and planted an ardent kiss on her lips.

The Emperor noticeably stiffened, then firmly turned away from this apparently distressing picture to tap some commands into his comlink.

“Our shuttle will be here momentarily,” he rumbled.

“Well, that turned out pretty well,” the Corellian remarked suddenly.

“Yes, it did, my love,” Organa responded, standing on her tiptoes to plaster her own lips against the tall man’s mouth.

There was a slightly anguished grunt from the Emperor, who turned again. His gaze, most regrettably, was now on the Holonet hosts.

Relinka felt her tongue freeze in her mouth from fear even as Cray, finally done with his hyperventilation, staggered with difficulty to his feet. “Your Highness, please. For the benefit of the ... citizens of the galaxy, who won this duel? I am sure many of our citizens have placed considerable bets ...”

He trailed away in terror as the Emperor took an angry step forward.

“Are you saying that my subjects were betting on...”

“Of course they were, your Highness,” the Corellian interposed suddenly, having broken free from his embrace of the Princess. “People will bet on snail races, alcoholic contests, and how much meat-fin they can eat before vomiting. People will bet on anything!”

The man now turned to Cray with a cocky grin on his face, “Unfortunately, this duel really was a draw. But if you need a loser, I’d say the building.”

A few yards away, the last two pillars gave way and the entire building collapsed to the ground with a resounding crash.

///////////////

Author Note: Nearly done with this fic now! One more chapter?


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I missed posting what is now Chapter 7. So if you missed it, you can go back and read that one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Somehow I missed posting what is now Chapter 7. So if you missed it, you can go back and read that one.

Chapter 11

Author Note/Warning: Last chapter, and a very fluffy chapter! You have been warned!

Offices of Reetvarts Construction and Destruction 

Random Office Building

Outskirts of Imperial City

Imperial Center 

9 months later

Maximus Piett entered the last figure into his ‘puter, began the computation, and leaned back and closed his eyes.

There would, of course, be an answer when he opened his eyes. The ‘puter models for blowing up buildings were remarkably quick. But he was tired so would take a break.

Very very tired. This had been a challenging project with an insane deadline. It had involved many long days and a good working group to actually get it done only a week late.

There was a strange noise in front of him which caused Max to open his eyes and leap to his feet. Before his bewildered gaze, he saw the window to his office was now open!

He had been told, when hired by Reetvarts Construction and Destruction, that the architect of his building had designed the windows to open so that workers could get the benefit of ‘fresh air and sunshine.’

Which was a total absurdity. This building wasn’t that old, and smog and noxious fumes had been a way of life in this sector for many many decades.

He had never seen the windows open before. And why would one just open randomly in the middle of a steamy afternoon?

A moment later, while Max mulled away in a bewildered fashion, a black clad form suddenly flipped through the open window, revealing the familiar face of Prince Luke Skywalker.

Max leaped to his feet incredulously, “Lars!”

Then, remembering himself, he dropped to his knees and bowed his head, “My heartfelt apologies, your Highness, Prince Luke, I mean.”

His head was bowed, so it was a surprise when Skywalker’s face suddenly appeared in his vision. The young man had thrown himself on the floor, his arms splayed back, his expression comically tragic.

“Max, if you have any mercy in your heart, any gratitude at all toward me, get up! I am dying with all these people bowing and scraping and kowtowing to me. My sister and father are kind of used to it but arrgghhh, I wasn’t meant for this! Please get up!”

Blinking in bewilderment, Max did get up. Skywalker, suddenly grinning, jumped to his feet as well.

“Uh ...” Max began hesitantly.

“You can call me Lars or Luke or Skywalker,” his companion said firmly, reading his mind with unnerving ease. “Whatever seems comfortable. But not prince, not your Highness, please! We blew up a pirate base together. We were at least compatriots during a daring mission, right?”

“Right,” Max agreed with a nervous smile, “Luke.”

The broadening grin showed him that this had been the right move.

“So, your ... I mean Luke, what can I do for you?” Max asked, then continued as he focused in on the window. “Wait, how did you get up here? This is the third floor!” 

“Climbed!” Luke responded cheerily. “And jumped. And hopped. I didn’t want to come through the front door of this place because then everyone would have freaked and there would have been welcoming committees and people collapsing on the floor. It is very uncomfortable.”

“I can imagine,” Max responded weakly.

“So,” Skywalker continued, “did you happen to hear that tomorrow Leia and I are going through some painful ceremony to become co-regents of the Empire?”

Max blinked, “Um, yes. Of course. I get the day off for the accompanying festivities.”

“Great. Would you like to come to the actual ceremony? It’ll be dull, but I hope quick. And then afterwards we really are having a fun party in my father’s palace. I was hoping you and your mother and your sister – Raina, I think – can come as well.”

The slightly younger man’s eyes bugged out slightly, “You want me to come to, uh, the official ceremony. With all due respect, why?”

Luke Skywalker smiled a little as his eyes took on a faraway expression, “Max, you were a significant, if unaware, player in the circumstances that brought my father and me together. I’m grateful for that. He ... well, I’m sure you realize from my diatribe on that shuttle that he hurt me pretty badly the first time we met. I could tell on Camden that he was concerned about my well being, and his subsequent actions were very encouraging. I appreciate who you are and I appreciate what you did for our family. And my father is a big fan of your uncle as well, though he won’t admit it.”

There was only one thing to say.

“I would be honored, Luke.”

“Ok, better show up at like, hmmm, 1030 hours? The ceremony is at 1112 hours. I’m serious. Some nutty security guy has it planned down to the minute. Crazy. Anyway, Vader’s palace, front door, we’ll have passes for you and your family. And your uncle Firmus Piett is coming as well, so you can come with him.”

“Ok,” Max said, his eyes widening. He knew this was a true honor, “Thanks ...”

His fumbling words were interrupted as his office door opened abruptly. The man walking in was the last person Max wanted to see. Pir Ramset was a gifted civil engineer but a jerk, unpleasant to those he deemed beneath him and a bootlicker to his superiors. Max was thankful every day that Ramset was not his immediate boss; Kirsella Kranst could and did dress him down when necessary, but she was efficient, firm, and fair.

“Piett,” the man said gruffly, head down while he stared at his holopad. “Kranst sent me these estimates you generated on the explosives we’ll need for the prison job. You’ve way underestim ...”

Ramset trailed off as he observed Luke standing calmly nearby.

“Who are you, and how did you get into a secure facility without a visitor badge?” he demanded in sanctimonious outrage.

“This is Prince Luke Skywalker,” Max said quietly, almost feeling sorry for the man.

“Right,” Ramset responded drily. “Right. I’m calling security. You know how important ...”

He trailed off as Luke floated over an Imperial ID which did, indeed, show his holo, the official Vader Imperial Crest, and (in sparkly, fancy letters) ‘Prince Luke Skywalker’.

Ramset stared at the holo, which continued to hover in mid-air, then at Luke’s face, then back at the holo.

His face went completely white and his body even wobbled slightly, “I am so very sorry, your Highness ...”

Skywalker lifted a hand, “It’s not a problem. My father is magnificent, my sister a bright and beautiful star, and I tend to fade into the background. That’s fine with me.”

He turned back to Max now, “I’ll let you get back to work, Max. I’ll see you tomorrow, and I look forward to meeting your sister.”

With one last wave, the youth casually wandered over to the open window, flipped outside, then dropped out of sight.

Max shook his head slightly. What an exit!

He turned to see Ramset staring at him with a mixture of horror and respect, “You ... you know Prince Skywalker?”

Inwardly, Maximus Piett groaned. He guessed he would be free from further bullying from this man, but being toadied wasn’t much fun either.

Oh well. It would be worth it. Mom and Raina deserved a fun day out.

///////////////////--------------

The Padme Shrine

Sub-basement #4

Vader’s Palace 

Imperial City

Imperial Center

Early (really early) the next morning

Mara Jade Skywalker stepped out of the elevator and into the medium sized room which celebrated the (all too short) life of Padme Amidala Naberrie Skywalker.

The titian haired woman stood quietly in the soft light for a moment, then waddled forward confidently to where her husband sat quietly on the floor, cross legged, staring at a holo.

A holo of his mother and father.

Vader had found it in a carefully shielded memory cube in the depths of R2D2’s electronic brain. It was of Anakin and Padme Skywalker on their wedding day. He was handsome, she was beautiful, and the lake sparkled behind them. It had, Mara knew, been taken at Varykino, the family’s lake retreat on Naboo.

Luke reached his left hand up to clasp her right hand, drawing her to the floor even as a random pillow zoomed across the floor to land right under her.

She chuckled aloud, “I don’t need coddling, Farmboy.”

“Humor me,” her husband said with a grin, even as his arm curled around her back to touch her (rapidly expanding) waist.

“It’s good to be fat,” Luke said gravely, but with a twinkle in his eye.

“It is good,” she said agreeably. “I mean, it shows the baby is growing well.”

She leaned against him with a sigh, closing her eyes.

“You’re tired,” he stated. “You should be in bed.”

“I slept for three hours,” she responded. “And then someone decided to start kicking my bladder so I had to get up, and I realized you were down here. I can’t sleep right now anyway, so here I am.”

“I’m glad.”

There was a quiet pause, and then Luke began speaking.

“I know we’ve talked and talked about this. I see why it’s a good idea, but then at night, in the middle of the night, I wonder – how does democracy fit in with Leia and me becoming the co-regents of a corrupt and ugly Empire? So then I come down at look at Mother’s face. She was a Queen, though a democratically elected one. But still, she was royalty, at least for a season. So for a season, I am royalty, I guess. And then I hope we can transition away from an Empire entirely. Or you and I can open parks while Leia does the hard work of rebuilding the Republic from the ground.”

“Or a kinder, gentler Empire,” Mara said softly, then added with amusement, “though I’m not opening any parks, my dear. You’re the regent. I’m just the good looking wife on your arm when I feel like it, and I will not feel like it about a park.”

“Works for me. I love parks so long as they don’t have any sand,” he responded, dropping a kiss on her head, then straightening to stare at his parents again.

“It’s so sad,” Mara murmured softly.

Luke nodded, “It’s an epic tragedy. It’s so awful it’s almost ridiculous. So much youth and courage and passion and love, in both of them, and he Fell and she died. She should have lived, Father should have lived to love her and raise us both, and instead ...”

“I know,” she responded, pressing closer to him. “I know.”

They were silent for a couple more minutes, and then Luke levered himself to his feet, “We should get back to bed.”

She grabbed his hand and pulled herself up with some difficulty, and they walked toward the elevator.

“Oh, I have a new possibility for his name,” Mara said with a twinkle in her eye.

“Yeah?”

“I like ‘Jar Jar.’”

Her husband shot her a horrified look, “No, just no!”

///////////////////////--------------

Darth Vader’s office 

Darth Vader’s palace

Imperial City

Imperial Center

“To the Skywalker dynasty,” Commander Rex intoned, lifting a glass of Corellian ale.

“To the dynasty!” Ahsoka Tano responded with a grin at her former master, even as she downed her own drink of Shili beer.

Darth Vader grimaced openly, which was now possible since medical improvements allowed him to function without his heavy mask when he wasn’t striding around vigorously or fighting. 

The oxygen tube clipped on his nose was nothing compared to that stupid mask.

“If you so much as breathe that phrase in front of my children ...” he began.

“You’ll kill us?” Tano asked mischievously.

“No, but Leia might,” Vader responded, even as he smiled slightly.

Tano smiled back, “Lucky for us, she’s tucked away in bed sleeping like a sensible woman.”

“Luke’s still awake, though,” Vader said softly.

Tano nodded, looking grave, “He’s a little stressed about the regency. But really, that’s a good thing. He’s taking it seriously, as is Leia. You’ve got a couple of great kids, Skyguy.”

“I know.”

Vader’s eyes watered slightly, also a possibility now since his tear ducts had been partially repaired. He lifted his hand and the bottle of Corellian ale nestled in the crook of Rex’s arm suddenly lifted and floated toward him.

Then stopped.

“What are you doing, Snips?” Vader demanded in a dangerous tone.

“I’m taking away that ale,” she responded firmly, “maudlin Sith Lords should not drink ale in the middle of the night. It just leads to Bad Things.”

“I’m not maudlin.”

“You are completely maudlin, sir,” Rex said, standing up and retrieving the ale from the air where it was suspended between the two Force users. Vader, rather sullenly, allowed him to take it. “I don’t blame you. There’s a lot going on, a lot of changes. Mostly for the good. But we all have our sorrows from the past, our own losses. The Clone Wars took their toll on all of us, and the last 25 years haven’t been easy either.”

Vader felt his eyes welling up again at the old clone’s words.

Padme ... he had furiously repressed thoughts of her for 25 years and now a hundred memories flooded his mind daily of her, when he looked into his daughter’s face, when his son’s expression mirrored hers.

Yes, he was definitely maudlin.

“Here, Master,” Tano said gently, pressing a glass into his hand.

“Blue milk?” he demanded without much indignation.

“Soothing and non-alcoholic,” Ahsoka said firmly.

He sipped it, then sipped more, finding it strangely comforting.

////////////////--------------

Han and Leia Solo’s apartment

Imperial Palace

Leia Organa Solo woke up briefly and placed a careful arm around her husband, who was sleeping soundly.

Why was she awake?

She sent out a tendril towards Luke. He was in bed but not yet asleep. She sent out a gentle thought and he reassured her, wordlessly, that all was well. She knew he was stressed about becoming a co-regent. She also knew he’d do a fabulous job. He was far calmer and more patient than she was, truth be told.

He disliked politics, but she would carry as much of the burden as possible of attending irritating meetings.

She stretched out to her father more carefully, shielding her presence. Tomorrow (today, really) was a huge step for him, to relinquish day to day control of the Imperial government to his twin children. He was sad, as he had been so often lately, but not angry.

Which was all to the good. He was trying so hard and had changed so much, but there was still darkness intermingled with light. She was no longer afraid of him, exactly, but she was definitely still cautious.

Last of all, she focused on the small presence inside of her, the beating heart of her child, of Han’s child, only 8 weeks gestation. She smiled slightly. The little person made her tired and sick and crabby but she was worth it.

She was pretty sure it was a she.

Leia drifted back to sleep.

///////////////////----------------------

Vader’s Palace

Main floor

1300 hours

“I am so thankful that is over!” Luke commented.

“Stop whining,” Leia responded.

“Your brother is not whining, he is merely expressing his horror at the boredom that is all political ceremonies,” Vader chimed in.

“I’m with Luke and Vader on this one,” Mara agreed. “Give me a knock down drag out fight in a slimy pudding bar over all that formality.”

“I thought you used to attend ceremonies like that as undercover security for Old Wrinkles,” Leia stated.

“I did. It was boring. I hated it.”

“You’re talking telepathically, aren’t you?” Han asked aloud as he curled an arm around his wife.”

“Yes, sorry,” Leia said, smiling brightly and vaguely at the masses of excited citizens who were strolling around the main floor of Vader’s palace.

“It’s Ok.”

In a large patio on one side of the palace, Luke and Mara watched with amusement as a variety of children, including Raina Piett, wandered about with wide eyes and excited chatter at the small temporary zoo in residence. Neither Skywalker knew much about small children, but several members of the Alliance with small children had told them that kids liked bugs, snakes, and small furry things.

So far, the piranha beetles were attracting the most fascinated horror, and the baby shaaks the most enthusiasm. The shaaks were also generating a fair amount of mess and smell, and C-3P0 was muttering away semi-hysterically, but it could be cleaned up later.

On a balcony above, Darth Vader, clad in armor and helmet, stood alone and forbidding as the masses of people invaded his palace. It was weird and not entirely wonderful for children and families to be present in this usually barren building, but he found himself surprisingly at peace. 

Because of the children, and their spouses, and compatriots, and even hesitant frenemies. 

In an alcove below and to his right, the former Baron Lando Calrissian of Cloud City was schmoozing with a couple of female members of the Trade Conglomerate.

To his left, General Maximilian Veers and his son Zevulon were sharing a cautious drink together, both with supporters at their sides. He recognized, vaguely, Wedge Antilles, a noted Rebel, who was standing at Zevulon Veers’s side. Veers had Admiral Piett standing nearby, providing a soothing presence.

Directly in front of him, Leia and her smuggler husband were holding gracious court with a series of politicians from both the Alliance and Rebellion. Leia said something to the crowd and all nodded, even as she raised her eyes to briefly meet his own.

She smiled, so much like her mother’s smile, and his heart broke (again.)

He had violated the laws of man and alien and torn the galaxy apart. He deserved death, or at least imprisonment and dismemberment, and yet he was the official Emperor of the galaxy though he was laying down his right to govern in favor of his far more worthy children. It was hardly fair.

“I don’t think life is fair, Father,” Luke commented suddenly, making Vader aware that he wasn’t shielding well. 

“I should be in prison, my son.”

“You know we’ve talked about this at length,” the responding voice stated fondly. “Even Alliance High Command agrees that you are the necessary figurehead during this season while Empire and Alliance work together to form a new, healthier, kinder, better, government. And I love you, we love you. Just accept forgiveness and grace, please.”

Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker, took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and sighed.

He would. 

The End

... unless I think of a good Epilogue. ;-) That does sometimes happen ...

**Author's Note:**

> Reviews of books help authors more than you know, especially new ones like me. If you do read one of my books on Amazon, please write a review. I would appreciate it. Thx!
> 
> My Pride & Prejudice books on Amazon; all are currently available on Kindle Unlimited
> 
> I am Jael
> 
> The Blind Will See
> 
> I Have Been Jaeled


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